Big thanks to Friends of ham for finding me a quiet corner this morning. A strong flat white & sourdough toast with marmalade was much needed after three attempts to buy a couple of leeks in the past 24 hours. Who knew leeks would turn out to be such a rare commodity. 

I’d got it into my head to make my sister’s leek and potato soup and nothing was going to stop me. So I used it as an excuse to escape the house, just for short while this morning. 

Because as the Christmas weekend approaches the niggle that something, someone is missing makes its presence felt. There’s the change in routine, the eldest returning from Uni, endless to-do lists even with a pared back Christmas, but it’s not just that. 

Because in this season of families, friends and coming together I just know grief will show up too. Seven years on from mum and dad dying and the feeling is different. There’s no massive lurch of the stomach, just a whisper, a murmur. A niggle. 

I feel my head start to fill with unhelpful, critical thoughts and so I seek out pockets of peace and quiet to read, write, listen to music. To just sit with it until it passes. It’s tough this business of grief. Predictable in its unpredictability. 

And now I’m home, I’ve made the leek and potato soup (worth visiting all the Ilkley supermarkets to track down some leeks) and I’m just trying to choose a film to watch.

These feelings, they do pass.

Wishing you all a Christmas filled with pockets of peace and quiet.