An absolute Christmas luxury. To come in from the freezing cold and light a Christmas fire. A real fire with the spark of logs and the whiff of wood smoke and occasionally burning carpet.
To fight off the dog, cat, teenager, from the best position in front of it and kneel down in front of it myself. Telly off, lights off, Christmas lights on, flickering firelight to drink tea beside, hot cheeks, thawing fingers. Whilst beyond the steamy windows the frosty sky moves from ice blue to gold to dark.
Inside the room is living with flame, reflected in all the tinsel and gaudier cards, the sound of it as comforting as water over pebbles or breeze through branches. It crackles and flickers with a music as evocative of Christmas as sizzling turkey or a chorus of carols.
Christmas luxury. Happy Christmas!
