Only a week to go to Christmas. I suppose this is always a tricky period, this final run-up to the festivities. Having spent the last few weeks rushing around buying food and gifts, you get to the point where you feel surely all the preparations are completed, or if not, then they will just have to do. And then you remember there are a few minor items still missing, such as everything you need for lunch on the day itself, and even presents for relatives you've somehow managed to forget about.
But you determine not to spend the remaining days in a mad panic, but to take a few deep breaths, make a few lists, annotate with priorities and suggesting timings, and glide effortlessly through your outstanding tasks, taking some time along the way to put your feet up with a cup of tea and a slice of cake and your favourite book of poetry. And yet – despite all your efforts – you have a sneaking suspicion that perhaps it will end up being a mad panic after all.
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