Well now.

The out-of-office response is on. The school year is finished. The Christmas tree is decorated. And I have no plans for the next fortnight beyond dog walks, naps, and an obscene number of those delicious little gingery things with jam in the middle and a crispy dark chocolate coating.

How marvellous. And just in the nick of time, honestly.

Every year, around early November, I find myself feeling a bit… well… crabbier than usual. Despite the fact this has happened every year for the last ten years, it always takes me by surprise, and I spend several weeks trying to work out what’s going on.

Is it the long, looming list of things I need to get done before Christmas? Is it tension from constantly hunching up against the winter cold and the spring wind and rain? Do I need to tweak my supplements, and bump up the Vitamin D for a few weeks?

And then, as always, it dawns on me. I’m tired. Just a bit tired.

Working freelance is an absolute dream. I love the flexibility and the variety, and hope I never have to work a nine-to-five office job again. But having a home office right there – in your home – means it can sometimes be tricky to step away.

As long as client requests keep coming in, I keep saying yes, and although I’m strict about protecting weekends and evenings it’s still very rare that I take a longer chunk of time away from my desk.

That means by mid-November it’s usually a solid ten months since I’ve had a break, and as my dear family would probably tell you, it shows. No-one can run on empty.

How lucky we are though that Christmas and New Year fall in summer here. Warmer, lighter days are the best possible gift at the end of a long year of work. My heart (and belly) are filled the abundance of fresh fruit and veg: garden peas and broad beans; punnets of juicy berries; nectarines, peaches, plums and cherries.

I’m also lucky enough to have two short trips lined up over the next six weeks. Three nights in Melbourne visiting a friend at the start of January, and three nights in Newcastle with DorkySon towards the end of January – just before he heads back for his final year of high school.

What a year it has been for him. It’s been a great one at school: good friendships, interesting subjects, committed teachers who have flipped his interests a full 180 degrees from STEM to humanities.

It’s been a big year of flying: passing his pre-solo exam, successfully completing his first solo flight, and delivering an excellent Pecha Kucha presentation about his flight training journey so far. Although there were a lot of weather-related cancelations over winter, it only takes one good lesson to push those memories into the rear-view mirror.

(And I am hoping that’s what happening right now, as I have one eye on this blog post, and one eye on Flight Radar watching him do circuits.)

While we haven’t had any family trips overseas this year, DorkySon and I kicked off 2024 with a long weekend in Adelaide, which was an absolute blast. More recently, he and DorkyDad had a similar trip to Melbourne, where they crammed in a Banksy exhibit, a visit to the Moorabbin Air Museum, and a tour of the MCG.

If I had to sum up 2024, I’d say it has been a year of finding joy in small, happy moments. Even with a backdrop that has ranged from frustration to devastation – from world events and election results at the global end of the scale, to health niggles and aborted international travel at the personal end – the tricky parts have made us appreciate the less-tricky parts all the more.

Time with friends, tea on the porch, good books, scenic walks, dramatic sunsets… these are the memories that will fill the 2024 memory book.

(I’m also going to remember spending several weeks helping DorkySon sort and bag 40 kilograms of assorted Lego bricks by colour – and perhaps when my fingers have recovered that too will make it into the memory book…)

Anyway. As we wrap up another year, my wish this festive season is that you too find joy in the small, happy moments – the kind that don’t necessarily come with a big price tag. Whether it’s a Christmas Eve Zoom call, a heartfelt note tucked into a card, or a donation to a cause that means a lot to you – these are the connections that truly matter.

From the Dorky Family to yours, may your holidays be filled with laughter, love, and the kind of warmth that comes from knowing you are surrounded by people who truly see and value you.

Merry Christmas and all the best for 2025.

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Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash