It’s 1° here in Essex. It’s not one of those bright, crisp, sunny, wintery days where the sun shines, it’s dull, grey and looks like it’s going to chuck it down with rain.

As I sit and type this the song ‘Simply having a wonderful Christmas time’ is ringing out in my local coffee shop. There are snowflakes and robins hanging from the ceiling and my cup is filled with sweet Christmassy-goodness.

I was asked to meet with a well-known person in London to make a film for them. The PA told me in the email that the place we were meeting at had a strict dress code of business wear or formal day wear.

Have you heard of that term ‘Hygge’? Pronounced Hoo-ga, it’s defined as a feeling of cosy contentment and well-being through enjoying the simple things in life.

How’s 2020 going for you? Whether good or bad, one thing I’m pretty sure of is that it’s probably not turning out exactly how you planned. I don’t know if you ever feel how I sometimes do – that it’s all a bit much and it’s hard to keep going. 

I don’t know about you but my phone is always in my hand. Or in my pocket. Or on my bedside table right next to where I’m sleeping. I don’t think it’s ever more than a few metres away from me at any given time.

During lockdown we decided to plant some corn on the cob because we love the stuff. Now this wasn’t any old corn, this was rainbow corn. With the hot summer we had it grew really quickly and ended up being so tall that you couldn’t even see over it.

Imagine you’re in a shop, the shopkeeper’s taken your payment and you’re picking up your stuff to leave. What are the words that you usually say?

Neil called me to say he had to cancel our date that night, so I said ‘OK, shall we get together tomorrow?’ But he was acting strange and said he couldn’t, so I asked him when we could reschedule. He responded with ‘Emma, I don’t want to see you again.’ I just didn’t get it. Everything was OK, wasn’t it? So, I asked that fatal question… ‘Why don’t you want to go out with me?’ His response hit me hard… ‘FAT women don’t do anything for me.’

When I was younger my friends all used to write to one another. Every time we saw each other throughout the week at Girls’ Brigade, youth club or church we’d exchange letters, sometimes pages long, sometimes a quick little note.