Let’s get rid of the smug-eratti in 2011

Top of mine is a change in government from the smug-eratti that is the Cameron-Clegg club. Only problem with that is the country becoming so destabilised it means the calling of a General Election. Still, the coalition seems to be making a pretty good fist of that at the moment.

Second is a desire for the UK to be towed to the southern hemisphere so we can bask in fling-a-prawn-on-the-barbie weather rather than having to put up with images on our telly screens more akin to a refugee camp in the Third World because ill-equipped managers at the world’s busiest international airport, that just happens to sit south of the M4, didn’t realise that you have to clear snow from taxiways and plane stands as well as runways to keep the world moving.

I also want to be anywhere other than here – and certainly not America because they're more mawkish than we are when it comes to a bit of royalty slap – in the run-up to April 29 because I couldn’t care less what the bride wore and whether she fluffed her words at the altar like her would-have-been mother-in-law did 20 years earlier. I’ll enjoy the bank holiday, though, so I suppose a royal wedding is useful for something. And hopefully 2011 will be the year that merchant bankers and the like are brought to book over their obscene bonuses and they have to live in the real world with the rest of us. A pipe dream, of course, given that the smugeratti – while they might poke a twig at them in a feeble attempt to appease us restless masses – won’t want to upset them too because they have as much of a shortage of humility as the bankers do themselves. But more than anything I’d like all my family and friends to get to this point next year having come through the intervening months enjoying rude health and much happiness.

Regardless of the state the country is in, on a personal level here’s to a happy new year. I hope it’s a good one for each and every one of you.

SO how was it for you? Dire? Delectable? Dull? A tool for juggling credit cards and an excuse – should one be needed – for too much food and copious amounts of booze? Or a brilliant time with family and friends where no one fell out, and Christmas dinner was perfection on a plate.

It’s the one meal of the year that causes the most angst in the kitchen and creates more competitive spirit than is found in an Olympic stadium.

Trying to ensure the turkey is served moist but not pink, the roast potatoes fluffy inside and crispy on the outside rather than oversized pellets for target practice, the sprouts verdantly green instead of a watery camouflage khaki, the gravy smooth and lump free has tried the juggling capabilities of many a kitchen dweller.

Then there’s those who think turkey and sprouts are so passé and have to go the extra mile in attempting to produce a feast that would frazzle a three-star Michelin chef, never mind someone who gets their inspiration from the food channel. Never mind, it’s all over now. Back to the curled-up comfort of jacket potatoes and eggy soldiers. Wonderful.

TODAY is my wedding anniversary. My 13th to be precise. Unlucky for some, but definitely not for me. It’s also the 21st anniversary of my dad’s death, which makes me realise just how fast life moves at a lickety-split sort of rate.

Odd, perhaps, that we chose to get married on such a sad day of remembrance in the family calendar. But it was quite deliberate, as we wanted to have something positive to remember the day by, as well as sparing thoughts (not that we don’t on every other day of the year) for a dad who was much loved and so much of a character that it's the funny things we remember now and not the bad times surrounding his last days.

Losing someone you love at any time is something all of us have to go through at some point but it somehow seems worse around Christmas when all those around you seem to be intent on being with family and having a good time while your life is quietly falling apart at the side of a hospital bed.

But for anyone who has had a miserable Christmas because they’ve been going through the same sort of thing, honestly it does get better and the festive season can become fun again. And my dad would approve at having his daughter’s wedding on the anniversary of the day she began planning his funeral. Cheers dad – it’s been a bereft 21 years without you, but a brilliant 13 years with my other half. I only wish you could have been around to meet him…