A Quiet December

Christmas has been arriving gently this year.

The tree went up without much ceremony, handed over entirely to my daughter, which meant a joyful, chaotic afternoon of tangled lights, rediscovered decorations, and the inevitable appearance of the most garish tinsel imaginable. She puts it on every year because she knows I don’t like it, watching closely for my reaction, her cheeky smile giving her away every time. And every year, I swear I won’t enjoy it, but I do. The sparkle in her eyes makes the whole thing worth it, and so the tinsel stays. Those small rituals shift the house into something warmer and softer. They don’t rush you. They just remind you where you are.

In between planning for Christmas itself, I’ve been writing. Not in grand, dramatic bursts, but in quiet stretches late into the night, when the house finally settles and the world feels a little less demanding. Those hours have become precious. A mug of tea was going cold beside me, notes scattered across the desk, the story slowly unfolding in its own time.

Alongside the writing, I’ve been leaning into creativity more intentionally, learning new skills on graphic platforms like Canva and Photopea. I can’t say I’ve stayed quiet and humble the whole time. There have definitely been moments where I’ve had to walk away and grab a chunk of chocolate before I threw the laptop out of the window. But I have to admit, I’m feeling quite accomplished so far.

I’m a curious bee by nature. Once I start learning something new, I can’t help but keep going back, tweaking, refining, and seeing what happens if I push it just a little further. It’s reminded me that creativity isn’t only about producing something finished. It’s about staying curious, trusting the process, and letting yourself learn as you go, even when the path isn’t clear yet.

I’m hoping Santa brings me something useful this year, or at the very least something that eases the tension in my shoulders and explains the small bald patches appearing in my curls. Humour helps. So does knowing that the learning itself is part of the work.

This season feels like a pause, but not a stop. A moment to reflect, to gather energy, and to quietly prepare for what comes next.

However you’re spending this time of year, I hope you’re able to find moments to be with the people you love. It's time to get together, eat, laugh at old jokes, tell stories, and just enjoy each other's company. Those moments matter more than we sometimes realise.

I like to think that if the people of Queen’s Road were marking the season, they’d be huddled together around the street fire pit, warming marshmallows, telling stories, keeping an eye out for those darn zombies, and making the most of the warmth while it lasts. 

Thank you for being here, for reading, and for walking alongside this journey with me. I’m very glad to be sharing the road with you.

Merry Christmas 

Emma ❤️