It really was a loooong month, wasn’t it? Death, storms, and the general dank gloom that comes with this time of year. We escaped actual flooding or storm damage here, but it’s not far from us. Quite apart from the weather though, the flow of urgent tasks has been pretty relentless, there is always a remote meeting in the day’s forecast, and my days have been filled with the usual grim reading material. And my inbox…well the floodwater there has been pretty biblical.

I’ve done a month now as FLBA Vice Chair (one reason for the rising tide of emails). It’s been an eye opener. There is so much work to do, at this toughest of times for the family bar. Lots of my friends and colleagues are desperate for the resumption of legal aid payments but extremely worried about recoupments of the contingency payments. The mood is as dank as the weather. There is talk of people leaving the bar altogether, people who have just had enough, who feel unheard and disrespected, Please keep an eye on your FLBA emails for information and news – and if you aren’t receiving your members emails let us know. It’s important you know what is happening on your behalf and what help we can offer.

On Friday, over a hundred of us (by my guess) attended a valedictory for Rebecca Stevens, a much loved solicitor who died much too young. A salutary reminder that life is short, but also that you should live your passion. She was a little ray of sunshine.

In between the rain and the gloom though, January and February do bring the occasional moment of watery sunshine. Those are the best days, where the cold air bites your face and the bright sky makes you blink. Later on Friday we trudged around the headland with the dog. It was slippery underfoot but cheering. Little green shoots poking out and up along the way are always a reminder that nothing is forever. Kids grow up, parents, pets and friends leave us, and life moves on to another phase. The world is spinning and the tectonic plates are shifting around us as we hyper focus on our cases. At moments we look up and realise we are in a different place and a different time. It’s disorientating. In 2026 I resolved not to have any new years resolutions, but I tell myself I will look up and around more, breathe more, plant my feet on the ground more firmly.

Fond as I am of metaphor and analogy, I can’t promise that the eternal winter is about to come to an end on the fees front, but I can forecast change and turbulence ahead in our work lives. This spring will bring a new President (and a bunch of other appointments to the senior courts), a new practice direction on bundles (oh frabjous day!), the beginning of a return to regular legal aid payments and a (long and bmppy) process of sorting out the issues around VAT, income tax and recoupment that flow from the disastrous hack. Although I don’t know what lies ahead on legal aid fees, I sense an incoming weather system.