In this strange complex of time and space anything can happen

There are not actually that many specifically Christmassy desserts, are there? I mean, OK - mince pies, Christmas pudding, Christmas cake, maybe Yule log. I can't think of any more beyond those, though.

Still, luckily for me I genuinely love Christmas pudding (and sprouts, and parsnips, and roast turkey - which makes Christmas a very good time for me all round, really). I'll admit that it sometimes seems a bit daunting after what's already been a huge Christmas meal - but that's kind of the point at Christmas, isn't it? I probably wouldn't want to eat it more than a few times a year, either. But those few times I do genuinely look forward to.

My perfect Christmas pudding is moist, rich, aromatic, fruity, and smothered in brandy butter, thick brandy cream and hot brandy sauce. If I can only have one of those, it's the brandy cream which is most important, as it is light and cool and helps to counteract the stodgy rich hot pudding.

I actually made a Christmas pudding three years ago, which I'm happy to report came out very well - genuinely one of the nicest I have ever eaten, in fact. I enjoyed doing it, and I'd love to live the kind of lifestyle where I had the time to do that every year. But it does take a lot of time and effort, and realistically a good-quality pudding from the supermarket is much better value for time, and cheaper to boot.

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My main reason for going to London was to attend a JACT Council meeting on the Saturday morning. I do this every six months, but normally only attend the Ancient History sub-committee (of which I am a member) in the afternoon. This time, though, I was asked to represent our committee on the main Council in the morning, which was quite good fun, actually - I certainly learnt a lot more about how the organisation as a whole works than I knew before.

Sneakily, since my travel to London is being paid for anyway, I usually take the opportunity to catch up while I am there with rosamicula, so I did just that this time too. I stayed over with her and the lovely itsjustaname (whose new blonde, 20s-style bob looks fantastic on her), and we were also joined by qatsi and Mrs. Q. on the Saturday evening for dinner. Much wine was quaffed and conversation enjoyed, while we gorged ourselves on a menu well up to rosamicula's usual culinary standards: chicken, chorizo and pumpkin pie with absolutely perfect pastry and accompanied by cheesy, creamy mash and veg, followed by an Imperial Purple Penny cake which she has invented in my honour. This mainly featured blackberries, blackcurrants and chocolate, but there was also a secret ingredient which we have all vowed solemnly never to divulge.


The cake in all its purple glory

Since the Ancient History sub-committee itself was not meeting this time, we also had some time free on Saturday afternoon to do a bit of sight-seeing. Friday evening was too full of wine and end-of-week decompression to make decisions about this, so I told rosamicula that I would just phone her when I came out of the morning's meeting, and she could surprise me with whatever idea she fancied. She came up with the Sir John Soane Museum, which preserves the house of the man who designed the original Bank of England building, and was also a fervent collector of antiquarian curiosities. He treated the house as much as a museum as a residence during his life-time, and it is still more or less as he left it on his death in 1833, in accordance with the terms of his will. It's really amazing - every nook and cranny absolutely crammed full of a bizarre mix of real and reproduction antiquities, including a huge Egyptian alabaster sarcophagus, hundreds of pieces of Roman architectural and funerary sculpture, drawers full of insects (which reminded me, inevitably, of Ghost Light) and models of Classical temples. In fact, it reminded me a very great deal of big_daz's house, which is much in the same vein only with fewer cremation urns and more commemorative plates.

The journey back wasn't so great, since it involved spending about 40 minutes stuck in Stevenage station while we waited for a broken-down train to be towed out of the way. But I made it back in the end, to curl up with Friday's episode of True Blood and some 'bear crunch' which rosamicula had sent me away with - nuts, fruit and chocolate, and extremely delicious.

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After a minor but enjoyable lie-in and a leisurely morning of breakfast and Frasier so old I hadn't seen it, I headed into town to enjoy duck breast and chocolate tart in honour of kissmeforlonger's birthday, and then Weston's Perry in honour of kantti and deeply_spurious's presence in town.

Sitting in Mr. Foley's at about 6pm, I realised that the world at large now knew who the Eleventh Doctor would be, though I did not. So deeply_spurious very kindly looked it up on his iPhone, and thus I learnt. Back home, I find that fandom has (inevitably) exploded, though there are some very sensible posts out there from Pickwick, Lefaym and Ed Zeppelin.

I thought I hadn't heard of him at first, but now that I've seen some larger pictures I realise that I do know him from Ruby in the Smoke and Shadow in the North. And that's about the right level of established public profile for me - he's not a total unknown, but he comes free from too many preconceptions (for me, anyway).

I would have liked it to be Paterson Joseph, but I would have been worried too about how he was going to be handled, for the reasons outlined in my post about Rosita. I'm slightly alarmed at the thought of a Doctor who, for the first time, will be younger than me, but I'm very ready to give him a chance. I was fairly lukewarm about the prospect of Tennant, after alll.

Above all, I hope they'll make use of his youth to lose something of the lonely God / "the one, the only, and the best!" aspect which Tennant has acquired, and go for a Doctor with a little more self-doubt - much as they did with Peter Davison in the wake of Baker (T), of course.

And that's about all there really is to say on the issue until his first story.

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As planned, Christmas Eve was spent going to see The Golden Compass in town, although I shall write about the film itself separately. I'm always surprised by how few people are out and about on Christmas Eve. I mean, I'm sure you can't really go out and party if you have kids, as there are Santa duties to be attended to. But why don't those in the pre-parental phase of life want to go out and toast in Christmas Eve? I know I used to quite often in my late teens and early twenties, but it was the same story then - a world half-deserted.

Anyway, Charlotte and I caught the bus in together, and then she went off to meet her friend Duncan while I saw my film, and we reconvened later when it was over. I met them in an 80s bar called Reflex, which I could see was probably a real swinging joint most nights of the year. As it was, though, they had about six customers, including us, for most of the evening. I wondered why they were even staying open - and by about 11:30 they'd obviously started wondering the same thing, as they shut up shop and kicked us out. So we decamped to Glamorous across the road, a gay bar which was in fact pretty full. As Duncan pointed out, a lot of gay people don't have families to go home to at Christmas in the same way as straight people do. They had possibly the world's worst drag cabaret act going on - decent enough outfits and everything, but the problem was that they weren't actually singing; just mouthing the words to other people's risqué songs, played way too loudly over the PA. And to a comedy routine about contraception, which involved two participants, but only had one person on stage, mouthing half of the words. So we grinned and bore it until midnight came round, but then made a quick exit.

Christmas day itself was much the usual sort of thing. All my presents went down well, and I got lots of nice things, including chocolate, Art Deco notecards, calendars (guinea-pigs for work, Erté for home), a vintage purse and belt, and a lovely pair of nested tables from Past Times which we're actually going to pick up from Leamington tomorrow. At the risk of sounding like an ungrateful brat, though, nothing from my Amazon wish-list. Which in fact meant no stories - no books, no DVDs, no worlds of magic and adventure. Well, actually Santa was kind enough to bring me a rather splendid David Tennant dream in the early hours of Christmas morning, and there was also the small matter of the Doctor Who special later that day (anticipation for which I think inspired the dream). But I could have done with Who season 3 or Order of the Phoenix on DVD, too.

The Who special had better have its own post, too. It had to be time-shifted, anyway, as we have our Christmas meal in the evening these days, so we were busy serving up and eating goose when it was on. Which was very tasty. And then after Who, it all seemed to be over for another year, and there wasn't even a film that was worth staying up huddled under a quilt for, so it was off to bed at a very conservative 23:45.

Today has seen our annual Boxing Day pilgrimage to the Waltons', for nibbles and drinks and chats. I swear little Holly is twice the size she was last year now, and from certain angles looking at her is like looking 27 years back into the past, and seeing my childhood playmate - pictured here, f'rinstance - now her mother.

Mmm! Have just had a delicious breakfast delivered to my room on a big tray. I have never done this before, but I can now recommend it!

Tonight is the final night of the Saturnalia, the Solstice has been accomplished successfully, and tomorrow is Christmas Eve. What could be better?

I'm up in Brum at my parents' house, and, as in some previous years, we are holding a Christmas party tonight. We've spent the day preparing, and now we've entered that lull where it's not yet worth getting dressed up and attending to the last-minute tasks like taking things out of the fridge and putting them on the table, but we've pretty much finished all the medium-term preparation. We have ham, pâté, salmon, cheeses, salads, olives, peppers, quiches, pizza, ciabatta, mulled wine, chocolate brandy cake, fruit salad and about a dozen other delicious things I can't remember now. Seasonal music and musicians are on standby (I shall mainly be playing the recorder this year), silly crackers are waiting to be pulled, the tree sparkles beautifully in the corner, and I have a lovely new dress hanging in the wardrobe. It should be a good 'un.

Going out into the garden this morning, I found that the mild weather we've had this autumn / early winter has meant a real profusion of interesting leaves, berries and even flowers which I could incorporate into the display of winter greenery that I normally put together to go on the mantlepiece above our fireplace. And, at long last, my Dad and I together also came up with a solution to the logistical problem I usually have when putting the display together - that the mantlepiece is rather narrow, the greenery gets quite heavy once you've got a few holly branches and bits of variegated bushes in there, and a blob of blu-tack just isn't adequate to hold it all together. Instead, this year, I picked out a suitable log from the wood-pile, and he split it in two and then drilled some holes in it for me, so that it could sit on the mantlepiece and have twigs poked into it. It works very well - and is making me wish I'd brought my digital camera up here to photograph it. Oh well - I'm sure it will be appreciated by the party-guests tonight, and maybe I'll be able to borrow the parental camera for blogging purposes? Yes - I'll go and enquire about that right now, I think!

Nothing spectacular - just one of those days that you feel good about at the end of it. So far, it has gone like this:

Morning - made good progress with chapter four. Finished the process, started yesterday, of collapsing the first 3000 words of it into 2000 better words. If things continue at this rate, of both speed and reduction, I've a good chance of finishing according to my current schedule (i.e. by April 18th).

Lunch - ate microwaved remains of last night's Taste the Difference goat's cheese and red pepper pizza. Yummy.

2pm - met stompyboots for coffee. Chatted about Leeds (which for some reason I kept calling 'Liverpool'), book, laptops and her current crush. It felt like a high-quality, well-deserved break after a productive morning - rah!

3pm - headed for the library. Continued to be happily productive. Tracked down useful and interesting references easily and efficiently. Left feeling I'd made significant progress.

5pm - bought tasty things at Sainsbury's and took them home.

And now, davesangel will be arriving shortly to stay over for the night! I haven't seen her since December, and am really looking forward to spend the evening eating some of the tasty food I bought earlier and chatting together.

So, in short - hooray!

I shall have to resort to numbered paragraphs.

1. I spent the weekend in a cottage near Ledbury, enjoying the 10th Annual Winsley Road Posse Christmas Meal. The choice of Ledbury was pretty random, really, based on reasonably equal travelling distances for all of us, and a nice-looking cottage within taxiable range of a railway station. But it was a good choice. The cottage exceeded all our expectations, while the lady we were letting it from had even left us a real live Xmas tree, a plate of mince pies and a lovely fire smouldering in the grate when I arrived. It was fabulous to catch up with everyone again, and enjoy the cottage, the grounds and the crisp but sunny weather together. We were all a bit bemused to find ourselves smoothly and professionally cooking a fabulous meal, eating it on an antique oak dining table and passing round port afterwards: all something of a contrast with meal number 1. Anyone would think we were grown-ups now, or something! But it was great, and so great in fact that we unanimously decided the book the cottage up again for the equivalent weekend next year before we left.

2. Last night was another jovial Christmas gathering, this time with the oxgoths in the Chequers. Presents aplenty were distributed amongst the assembled company, chocolates munched and silly hats worn. We even attempted to play Christmas carols in chorus, with Spiky Neil conducting us and each person blowing on a differently-pitched whistle. Just one of those evenings that makes you feel really glad to have the friends you have.

3. And, finally, isn't Radio 3's Christmas Bachathon a stroke of genius? I don't tend to listen to Radio 3 all that much, but now that it's offering 100% Guaranteed Bach every time I switch it on, things have become quite different. I even threw over the Today programme this morning, setting my alarm to wake me up with one of his cantatas instead. Chatting to friends, I think a lot of people are doing the same sort of thing, and I don't doubt it's doing their audience figures a world of favours. Now, how about a Handel New Year, eh?

4. Ah, it's time for Futurama! Bye. :)

I spent lunch-time wandering around the farmers' market in Gloucester Green with dyddgu. We were beset by delicious smells on all sides, and satisfied our appetites by munching heartily on roast-pork-and-stuffing (or crackling) rolls. I bought:

• Two venison burgers
• Goats cheese with coriander and chive.
• Honey and mustard dressing
• Balsamic vinegar dressing
• Honey and ginger marinade

(The lady on the dressings and marinades stall was very friendly, and expert at tempting me into trying more and more of her delicious concoctions).

After dyddgu had dashed off to get back to her job in the History Faculty library, I wandered around a little more, taking in the antiques / craft part of the market, and then, all of a sudden on a 'Retro Design' stall, saw the telephone that I have been waiting for all my life. For years, you see, I've wanted a plain black dial phone, just like my parents had until only about 10 years ago. They're the ones everyone had in the 60s and 70s, which looked like this, and I now know are technically referred to as the '700 series'. Until recently, though, I haven't been able to justify the expense for something which is really just a fashion statement. So it had remained a pipe dream, and I'd got along perfectly happily with my £9.99 silver touch-tone phone.

The phone I saw today, though, brought my long-thwarted desire flooding back ten-fold. This phone wasn't just the design I liked - it was also sitting there in two-tone bright purple and black! I hadn't even known such phones existed. Which is lucky, because I'm not sure I could have survived this long without owning one. However, it was £65, and besides not having that kind of cash on me, it also occurred to me on the basis of previous experience of the Gloucester Green antiques market that I might well be able to get it cheaper on Ebay. I came home, did a quick search, and guess what? I could. And the thoughtful sellers have even offered a complete explanation of how it is that such phones ever came to be.

Much happiness now ensues. And I return to preparing tomorrow's lectures.

Have just come back from dinner with my two Masters' students and three Ancient History colleagues at Café Milano. We were all very impressed by the décor: not only Domus Aurea-style trickling fountains in the background, but a tessera-for-tessera copy of the Alexandery bit of the Alexander mosaic on the floor. You couldn't get much more appropriate for a bunch of Ancient Historians, really.

The food wasn't quite up to the same standard - the duck I had was a bit rubbery, and the meringues which formed part of my dessert had a somewhat silicone texture. But no matter - it's the people that count on these occasions, and they were fine indeed. I shall miss them. Yes, all of them.

*sigh*