Christmas on Ice

Snow is falling off the roof in blocks as we step out onto the ice skating rink in our blue skates. It's a slow start, skating around the outside, keeping the barrier in easy reach, until we make our way gradually towards the middle where the fast skaters are flying past. You feel yourselves falling backwards and the confidence goes. Others fall and we start to slow down. We stop to look at the dark walls of the Tower of London, contrasted with the well lit offices of the big glass buildings in front of us. We take a corner fast and we fall over. We're back to where we started.

I'm on holiday at last, and the pressures of work makes it feel like a well deserved break. It takes time to shake work off. I went and did all my Christmas shopping yesterday morning. It all went well; when I reached the bank I discovered I'd been paid. I found the presents I went for, found them amongst the lights and the people in red, with their buckets, singing christmas songs and collecting for charity. I stumbled into shops to find other good gifts. I was home before the rain started and we were at the ice rink in time for the snow to stop.

This morning I had the luxury of getting on the tube at ten. It rolled in, empty but for a few people a carriage. This morning I took my time, eating crumpets and drinking tea at the kitchen table at eleven.

On the skating rink we've ten minutes left and I'm skating fast now, weaving between the people, away from the barrier, getting close to the middle, faster, faster, looking down at the ice, then around at the snow surrounding the tower and at the people smiling, people in scarves and red christmas hats, gliding around together. It feels like Christmas now. Merry Christmas.