I always get particularly maudlin at the dismantling of the tree and the scooping up of decorations from far-flung places around the house, particularly as housework ranks low on my list of priorities. The trudge to the recycling plant in the park, dragging my cross (sorry, tree) behind me. Once it's all done, I can admire the streamlined space and the absence of sparkly segments of tinsel littering the passageways. I just have trouble coming to terms with the end of the period of relaxation. No keen consultation of the Radio Times Double Edition (don't deny it, not only did you buy it, you highlighted it)  to see what to watch, or most likely to record and never get round to watching. No licence now to slope about in jim-jams, eating cheese, supping ginger wine (delicious!) and chatting to friends who've just popped in. And feeling ok about that, because so is everyone else. Now we must WORK and schedule in time off to strictly regimented segments. I know Christmas brings sadness and disharmony to many, but there IS joy there.
TOP TIP, by the way, passed on by my friend Kerry. Put an old duvet cover (or in my case ANY old duvet cover) over the tree before hauling it out. All needles contained in cover, not lurking in corners to spike a bare foot for months to come.

....another mouthful, as people often say, come early January, when the corners of the stilton have started to discolour and the thought of a mince pie is less appealing than it was a few weeks back.
I've been musing about this time of year and the need for people to start afresh, wipe the slate clean, lose half a stone, embrace 'clean eating' (when dirty eating is SO much more fun). reconnect with all their old friends, get a better job, write that novel, sort out the cupboards under the stairs, play improving games with their children....
The list is endless. And unaccomplishable, let's be fair. We attempt this Herculean task, while slapping Dry January on ourselves. DRY JANUARY!?! What noob (as my sons like to say) invented that?!
So, let's be clear, I'm not abstaining this month. But I will moderate, for sure. Not least because I have these bizarre swallowing anxiety dreams. I've had them for three nights straight now. I wake in a panic, thinking I've swallowed something harmful. Sometimes, the item is indistinguishable, but last night I'd imagined I'd swallowed an entire turkey. That would certainly cause some serious damage. The night before - a tin of sardines - one of those flat, oval ones. I sit up, heart racing, and have to remind myself there's nothing harmful beside my bed (I have written a note to that effect). Perhaps I should add there's no flipping tin of sardines by the bed, you idiot!