The lyrics of the John Lennon song seem particularly poignant this year. Christmas has come and gone and despite everything we still managed to have a good time. There were some really funny moments – one of which involved a stout middle-aged woman (who shall remain nameless) dancing like nobody was watching, but unfortunately they were. The over-vigorous bop to The Jam resulted in a couple of slightly sore knees the next day, a useful reminder that the over 50s really shouldn’t throw themselves about in such an undignified manner.

We missed Alex & Amy who with the Boxing Day Tier changes had to decide between Christmas in Hambleden or in Cornwall, but there will be other years. I couldn’t travel to see my parents and the Norfolk Broads as planned and so their Christmas presents remain in a pile in the spare bedroom. They will be delivered when it’s safe for me to see them, hopefully before Milly grows out of her present.

The Christmas Eve celebration had to be considerably scaled back, but those attending (you know who you are) still had fun and consumed a surprising amount of alcohol for such a small number of people. Christmas Day Field Drinks were a hoot, as was our Christmas Dinner – I can thoroughly recommend a barbequed (or should I say Green Egged) turkey. Catering excelled himself. There was the usual cobweb clearing Boxing Day walk with homemade damson gin and/or cherry vodka and pieces of Terry’s Chocolate Orange at the top of the hill. Then a lazy film and rugby watching afternoon on the sofa. Same traditions and some things that will become new traditions (Christmas Day Field Drinks are here to stay) just with fewer people.

We had hoped to get to Exmoor for the New Year – a table in Woods was calling to us, but instead we had dinner for two at home and Jools Holland’s company as we saw in the New Year.

Let’s hope 2021 is a good one without any fear.