CHRISTMAS came early with AP McCoy's victory in the BBC Sports Personality of the Year awards.
The 15 times champion National Hunt jockey came across very well and it was impossible not to be moved by his victory.
For me, there was a fear that the general public wouldn't grasp the magnitude of his achievements and just think "he won the Grand National – so what?" but the voters showed shrewdness of judgement.
Every second was watched apart from when the comedian James Corden came on as his character "Smithy". It's probably just this viewer's sense of humour – or lack of it – but he does nothing for me.
The generation he represents, with tracksuits and expensive trainers yet never doing any exercise, makes me sad rather than smile. At least he made our gift choices a little easier.
With having lost their old pony, this was the one Christmas that we might have steered off our usual path. We wondered about one of these Wii things that are on almost all the adverts, with people jigging about in front of the television. But we're sticking firm with old-fashioned presents such as a bike, a tennis racket – both to actually get outside in the fresh air rather than set up camp in the sitting room – and some bits and bobs to make showjumps from when they finally find another pony.
Would the wonderful young diving ace Tom Daley have achieved such greatness if he'd been doing virtual games rather than actually getting off the sofa and going down to the swimming pool?
The guests at the annual sports awards included such inspirational people. It made me feel like clambering on the old mare and jumping a big hedge. On reflection, it was probably best for both of us that this rush of blood to the head was nipped in the bud by the weather.
One sector of the population that don't need to get out and exercise is the farmers. There must be so many that are just getting the animals fed and watered when it's time to start again for night.
An allergy of mine is the television programme Move to the Country. While our daughter loves looking at the properties, it leaves me shouting at the television in a most unbecoming fashion. What gets me is people's presumption that life's all so roses-around-the-door and that they're actually farming if there's two broken-mouthed ewes and a llama in the back garden. How would they cope with 200-head of cattle to feed and water?
We've had some unexpected visitors, who shall remain unidentified for fear of putting our relatives off their turkey, just in time for the festive season. The Husband blames me for making him put the heating on but at least they've kept the cats, Rosie and Jim, well-fed.
With all good wishes to readers for a very merry Christmas.