Something strange has happened in our house. It’s 9.30am on Boxing Day and nothing is stirring, not even a mouse. Well, actually the dog is mooching around going scratchity scratch on the kitchen tiles, and I have been stood thoughtfully with my hands in hypnotically hot, soapy water at the kitchen sink… but otherwise nothing is stirring.

The kids are now not only taller than me but keep later bedtimes than me, and rouse only once the sun is over the yardarm. Even for Father Christmas. It was the same yesterday (although it was slightly more fast paced as the meal was more complicated yesterday – it was a triumph, if I do say so myself). We had an actual lie in, stuck the turkey in the oven and self-caffeinated, all before they emerged in search of presents. Peculiar and slightly sad not to be woken at six with the tinkling of the giant stockings that mammaw made them as they drag them upstairs.

Anyway, I don’t usually spend Boxing day blogging. That’s a bit weird. I’m just dropping by briefly during this moment of calm to say a couple of things:

Firstly, I have news. Some of you will have seen it, others not. I’m going to be appointed King’s Counsel. I’m not going to bang on about it, but it seems appropriate to mark it on this blog since it’s been with me for nearly fifteen of my 20 odd years at the bar and has tracked my journey through the incredulous accidental labelling of me as a silk a decade too early in 2013 (mistaken identity), till the day it became reality (23 December 2022). I don’t really believe it this time either, but I am in the twinkly hinterland between real life 2022 and real life 2023, so everything is a bit peculiar.

Before the teens emerge and begin rampaging for good, and before I go back to peeling spuds there are two groups of people I want to acknowledge:

The non-lawyer readers of the blog. I see you shrugging with bemusement. I will at some point write something explaining what King’s Counsel is and how it all works. Maybe when I understand if fully myself. Most of my family had to look generally impressed and then secretly google it on wikipedia. Responses involved references to Kavanagh QC and Beefeaters…

The second group of people is the people who applied and didn’t get it. It sucks bigly.  It’s a cruel process and it eats you up and spits you out. I know you probably feel miserable. I know, because I’ve been there. I’m sorry.

(I’ve got lots of thank yous to say, but this is not an oscars speech and I’ll be saying those in private)

And with that, I hear footsteps on the stairs…Happy Christmas all x