21 December is the birthday of, amongst about a zillion others, Samuel L. Jackson (62), Annabel’s lovely husband (??), the ever-youthful Jane Fonda (73) and the unfairly decapitated Thomas Becket (892). And today, a(nother) royal coupling was announced with Zara having said “I do” to Mike Tindall. On top of all this excitement, we’re also having a rare total lunar eclipse which, for the first time since 1638, coincides with today’s Winter Solstice, the shortest day of the year. But I missed it all because I was in Tesco. As a Cancerian, I feel the lunar pull and so leapt out of my bed pre-dawn in order to collect my neighbour Sarah so we could do the earliest shop we have ever done. It was bliss and I heartily recommend it to anyone who usually ventures -during more sociable hours -into the war zone that is the yuletide supermarket , only to find the shelves devoid of bread (even the white plastic stuff), potatoes and milk and queues that would rival those waiting to see the Pope. The siege mentality of the public at this time of year is very contagious and I usually succumb to overstocking and thrashing my debit card to a messy pulp. Today however, it was all heavenly peace and quiet, I found every single item on my neatly typed list and no-one tried to trolley bash their way ahead of me at the checkout. On returning home, my adorable Son threw on some wellies and a Barbour and lugged all the bags from car to utility room via the slippery ice rink that is now our drive. He is mostly to be found these day in his sitting room, naked but for a pair of striped boxer shorts, working on a huge A-level oil painting of his girlfriend while she surreally watches him, her Skyped face huge on a large monitor next to him. Anyhow, having fun typing this post has just been eclipsed by the very real need to put all my shopping away, cook hungry Son lunch and, the bit I’m really looking forward to, washhis crusty rugger socks.