Picture attached of fave auntie Hilary opening one of her Christmas presents on Sunday. I travelled down to Swansea to see her and it was great to catch up. As I left, she gave me a precious gift - her home made mince pies (with home made mincemeat) and some of her homemade sausage rolls. She makes these with sausagemeat from her butcher, who makes it himself, and the quality is excellent. Andrew and I usually end up fighting over them!

A quick praise for the local GP surgery. I decided to register, as I needed to renew a prescription. To my amazement, the surgery has a clear, helpful well laid out website. When I got there, the building was clean, bright and welcoming with smiling,helpful receptionists. They have an open surgery system. After completing my forms, I saw a GP and was out in minutes. Wow! No fuss, no bother, no grumpy dragons on reception, no phoning for hours to get an appointment three weeks next Tuesday - just wow. Why can't this be the norm? Anyway, it just adds to the growing list of reasons of why I'm glad we moved to the country.

Afterwards, we popped into Hay and Brecon Farmers (rapidly becoming my favourite store) for some supplies. Picked up some dog kibble, and industrial sized bottles of fabric conditioner and washing tablets at ludicrously low prices. Andrew got himself a new pair of boots, and again commented on how cheap they were. Anyway, got to the checkout, paid and the guy cheerfully picked up some of the boxes and carried them out to the car for us, without being asked. Would this happen in Cardiff? I think not. So, reason no. 73 joins the list.

Have been pottering in the kitchen this afternoon as Andrew's parents arrive tomorrow for a new year stay. Have made some roasted vegetable soup for lunch tomorrow and played around with a bread recipe, that involves greek yoghurt, maple syrup, oats and pumpkin seeds. Watch this space to see how it turns out. I love experimenting with different mixes of flours and recipes. Andrew has also been making a lamb and date tagine for tomorrow evening, so the kitchen smelled wonderful. While we were cooking, two happily hopeful hounds were perched by the kitchen door with that expectant look on their faces.... aaah.

Gosh, it's already Saturday. I hope you all had a wonderful, peaceful Christmas, as did we. Thanks to all for the bumper array of cards this year. Christmas Day passed quietly and happily for us. The woofs have been enjoying the turkey, and Andrew has boiled up the carcass to make large quantities of stock, which is now in the freezer, ready to enrich our risottoes in the months ahead. Boxing Day passed quietly too, with nibbles and books to read. Went down the Cardiff house today. The journey this morning was enriched by the spectacular views through the Brecon Beacons. Frosted tops on the peaks, frozen waterfalls and low winter sunlight that blazed over the hills. Gorgeous. On the way back, we were horrified by the traffic queues that had built up around the Cyfartha Retail Park in Merthyr. Fortunately we were heading north so were able to sail past the long miserable queues. What kind of lunatic would want to go shopping so soon after Christmas? On the way back we listened to the CD by the Killers, that I bought for Andrew for Christmas. Really great.

I must say I love these days between Christmas and the New Year. There is an agreeable sense of all normal rules being suspended, with time for pottering, and meals at odd hours, and visits to relatives, and new books to read. In our family home, it was always like this, with long daytime walks with dogs, and evenings spent in front of the fire with books to read and glasses of enjoyable drinks, and a pleasant absence of clockwatching. So much of our normal life is governed by time - appointments, routine, a sense of rush and busyness - it is a precious gift to enjoy a few days that are pleasantly without these, especially as the run up to Christmas is a time which is always busy if not frantic. I like the sense of relaxed companionship with Andrew, with the dogs snoozing gently. As I write this, Booty is napping behind me, her legs stretched out contentedly and Andy is on the sofa with Andrew.

I attach some festive photographs. Tomorrow I am travelling down to Swansea to visit favourite auntie and possibly to visit friend Liz on the way back. Finally, I must say that I loved the new Wallace and Gromit film and Doctor Who was great.

It's Christmas Eve!! We are all excited and hope you are too. Andrew went to work this morning, so I got busy doing lots of last minute cleaning and tidying, so the bungalow looks nice (well, as good as it ever will, with the hideous decor). Listened to lots of cheesy Christmas music as I worked. Andrew came home lunchtime, and went for a run. He did an experiment by taking Andy with him for the first two miles, slinging him back in the house before continuing on his way. Andy was panting when he returned, but seemed very happy. Appears to be a successful experiment. Listened to 9 lessons and carols from Kings on the radio, and the turkey is now cooking happily, smelling wonderful. When we last went down to Cardiff, I cut huge bunches of fresh herbs from the garden, and have stored them in the fridge. Some of the rosemary and sage has gone in the bird.

Now I'm drinking a glass of gin, and will be having a few nibbles in a bit, followed by some linguine with lobster. We will be following tradition and watching Muppet Christmas Carol (and singing along, badly) later on, with a glass of champagne. So, wherever you are and however many greyhounds you are blessed with, may you and your loved ones have a happy, peaceful Christmas, filled with joy. I'd also like to thank all those readers who have taken the trouble to pass on their Christmas wishes - it's appreciated very much.

Now the difficulty will be tonight - somehow it's impossible to get to sleep on Christmas Eve.

An exciting start to the morning. Readers may recall my success a little while back with my cranberry buns - made with a Chelsea bun dough and a filling of fresh cranberries and pecans. Inspired by these, I made some more CBD this morning (bless my little breadmaker) and have just filled it with home-made mincemeat, recently given to us by Penny, a greyhound friend. The buns are now in the oven, smelling gorgeous as they bake. When they are cooled I will ice them, and they'll then be ready to eat. Andrew won't like them, as he is not a mincemeat fan, so I will make him some festive cake tomorrow before he comes home from work. Probably a sponge, with a buttercream icing. While I was just sorting out the buns, the doorbell rang and I went and signed for a mystery case of wine. Earlier, the bell went while I was in the shower, but fortunately the courier was able to leave the parcel on the doorstep. I had ordered a pair of pyjamas in the Lands End sale (you definately need them on these cold nights up here) and treated myself to a fleece top - bright red with snowflakes. This is no time for taste and restraint.

Just been listening to Womans Hour, featuring the wonderful Mary Berry, queen of Aga cooking and cake baking. I bought one of her cake books years ago, via the Book People in work, and it was a fantastic investment. The book has become more and more splodged, splattered and flour-dusted - always the sign of a well-used and loved cookbook. Her recipes are simple, reliable (unlike some celebrity chefs I could name!) and clear. Over the years, I have had great success with her traybakes, her sponges and she even provided the recipe for our wedding cake - a wonderful chocolate confection. Now it's time to brave the threatening pile of ironing - I could swear I just saw movement in there!

My thanks to Jan for the pointer to some festive blog layouts. What a great idea. Took Andrew to work this morning and stopped by the butcher on the way back to pick up the turkey. How exciting. What was also good is that instead of wrestling with a big bird in a carrier bag or a parcel, they gave it to me in a large, sturdy cardboard holder with handles, a bit like the bottle holders you get from the supermarket. Also collected the Christmas edition of the Radio Times. Like many people this is the only time I buy it, and it seems as much a part of the festive season as sprouts and the tree. Had a look at it, and so far the obvious must sees are Wallace and Gromit (hoorah!) in their new adventure as well as a re-run of Curse of The Were-rabbit. Also of course Doctor Who. Otherwise, not a huge amount that is grabbing me, except of course the season finale of CSI Miami tomorrow night, featuring what the RT amusingly calls the Sunglasses of Justice on H. It really is the most stylish year-round pantomime - gloriously over the top. I msut admit the current season has some very whizbang computer things that I yearn for and I'm not normally much of a gadget queen. So,unless the house is burning down tomorrow night I will be glued to the sofa and not answering the phone to anyone.

Yesterday, we went down to see Aunty Floss, my much loved great-aunt. When I was little,we'd usually go and see her on Christmas Eve and I have particular memories of this being the first time we would be allowed to eat Christmas cake during the holidays. Aunty Floss is a great baker and slicing into a huge, rich fruit cake with royal icing on it, served on delicate china plates would be the curtain raiser, so to speak, on the feasting to come. Although my mother would make and ice her own cake, this would not be cut into until at least the afternoon of Christmas Day, and would usually sit on top of the piano in the dining room tempting me and my brother before that. Anyway, this year we were sandwiched in between her hectic round of engagements, with a pantomime the day before in Pontardawe and another visitor expected after we left her in the afternoon. She's then off on a fortnight's holiday in sunny Porthcawl. What I can't get over is the way that she describes the holiday hotel she goes to, which is full of senior citizens, all of whom seem to be busy dating and flirting. The last time she went a gentleman caller to one of her friends came unstuck, as another of his squeezes (unknown to him) was also staying at the hotel and a tricky situation ensued. It actually sounds very much like being back at school. What also made me nearly choke on my lunch was when she was describing another friend (aged 88) who announced to the man on their first date "I'm not ready for sex yet" and apparently this drove him away. So, all in all, it was fabulous to see her. As we drove back up the A40, it seemed incredibly Christmassy somehow. The afternoon was damp and misty, and just occasionally you'd see glowing yellow lights from farms and houses as we drove through the countryside, all browns and purples in the low light. It just made you think of woodsmoke and fires and comforting pots of tea. Lovely.

This week has flown by. Time is definately elastic. Christmas preparations are now virtually complete. This year, we've decided to brine the turkey before cooking it, a la Nigella, so I'm collecting the bird on Monday from the butcher and then dunking it into a bucket full of good things before roasting it on Christmas Eve. Always tricky to do a big meal in an oven that you don't feel completely bonded with - and I LOATHE the blasted hob, which is one of those funny solid ones, that doesn't glow, takes forever to heat up, and even more eternity to cool down. Grrr. Can't wait till we get our own house up here. Anyway, the stove will not prevent a goodly range of delicious festive baking. Yesterday we went to the farmer's market, and stocked up on a range of goodies, mainly meat, eggs and vegetables. Delicious free range pork and local Welsh Black beef, handmade sausages and crisp green leeks - what could be nicer?

The bungalow is looking quite festive with a range of lights, pretty candles, lots of cards and various decorations. Sadly, there's simply no room for a tree - this is the first Christmas I've EVER not had a tree, and it seems really odd. I miss that gorgeous smell, the resiny feel of the needles, the satisfaction of decorating it with baubles that each have their own history. For instance, I still have some I bought on a pre-Christmas trip to Brittany in the winter of 1991, and some others which are even older and go back to my living in Swansea in a flat in Mt. Pleasant.

It's been a while since I included any gratuitous shots of the dogs - so pray indulge me. Sensitive viewers should immediately go elsewhere......

As I write this, there are seven long tailed tits on the bird feeder in front of the window, munching seeds with a small gang of blue tits waiting for their opportunity to move in. Great.

Lots to say. Important news first. Went down to Cardiff last night and stayed at the house, in preparation for my annual oncology checkup this morning, the most important day of the year. Difficult to describe the range of emotions, especially as Jonathan's blog (see sidebar) had been much on my mind recently with different aspects of cancer. The checkup incurs a range of feelings, from straightforward terror ranging to anticipation, eagerness and even a kind of resignation at some points. Anyway, as usual, I slept appallingly last night - this always happens in the run up to the date - although I did have the excuse that Booty had jumped on my bunk and had nailed down the duvet, ensuring a draught about my extremities. As always, I choose the earliest available appointment in the morning - partly cos I want to get it over with, and partly to avoid delays due to late running. Anyway, I turned up on time (I have never been late for a medical appt in my life) and the waiting room filled and filled and filled with more and more anxious women. The tension was palpable. Nobody comes to an oncology clinic without good reason and we all looked more and more miserable. No doctors for three quarters of an hour, then they began seeing people. Ho hum. What's particularly miserable also is that you have to access the clinic via the antenatal services - everywhere you look there are hugely pregnant women, shops selling balloons, posters about baby care and midwives and then there's us - there's not even a sign to the clinic, almost as though they want to keep us quiet. The award for sensitivity should go to the person who planned the layout. Anyway, as usual, once you get into the clinic, the staff are wonderful - so warm, so reassuring and very helpful. When my time came, met with a very young doctor, who hadn't yet got the physical skills of some of her colleagues (both nursing and medical) but was very thorough. Back in a year, all being well, when I will, if all appendages remain tightly crossed, then "graduate" from oncology checkups and return to "normality", although in the privileged position of being able to ring the clinic for an emergency appointment if I ever notice symptoms. This has been drilled into us repeatedly, but once one of the doctors explained that not everyone who notices symptoms comes in even though they have a good idea of what they mean - especially because, I guess. The thought of going through it a second time may just be too much for some people - I used to be very gung-ho about it, but over time I have become much more understanding of this position.

After we came out, I felt the usual mixture of emotions; elation, relief, exhaustion and a combination of wanting to burst into tears and do star jumps round the car park. Instead I waddled across to the car, found my phone and began texting the good news to the usual suspects. Back to the house, via a sustaining and completely unhealthy breakfast at Greggs (which I shared with the woofs) and then a parting of marital ways as I disappeared for a dental hygienist appt and Andrew met the first of the scheduled estate agents. When I returned, all agents had been seen, and we went over to Culverhouse Cross to do a quick canter round Markles and Sparkles food hall for some Christmas goodies, some for freezer. Also took the opportunity to stock up on knickers and socks - in this respect, I am an entirely typical British woman. Then back to the house again, loaded up the car and thence to vet for Booty's repeat prescription for her Previcox and another look at her eye, as she appears to have scraped it on one of her squirrel chasing missions. Vet has issued eyedrops and a selection of festive dog chews. Then finally back to the A470 and the long journey north to our new home. As we drove, the most beautiful stars were visible - lovely. Now just about to catch up with last night's CSI Miami and then it will be time for bed - I am so exhausted that I will sleep like a log tonight.

We think we've selected an agent so we just need to sort out the stupid bleepety bleep HIP issue and then the house should be on the market just after Christmas.

Finally, this is the 201st blog post - 200 posts seems like quite a milestone. I'd love to hear what your favourite post is and what you like about the blog. Do you want to see more photos? Do you like the way all the craft stuff has been hived off to Silver nutmeg? Would you like to see more whizbang features, with feeds, links etc? Tell me your thoughts.

Update on the pudding. Well, it looked good to start with. When you put the spoon in, there was a golden and yummy coconut crust (that bit worked) then underneath was a moist, sweet custard, rather like the stuff you have in bread and butter pudding, with that slightly jelly-like consistency. No sign of any crust layer on the bottom. I ate a bowlful after our pasta and was slightly bemused - edible, but definately not one I think I'll repeat in a hurry. Andrew was completely put off by the look of the custard, even though he loves things with coconut. The finale of this tale is that while I was hoovering this morning, a certain well known greyhound who will remain nameless got into the utility room and decided to help themselves to the remainder of the pudding. At least somebody liked it. Now just off to make some cous-cous for when Andrew returns from running club later. It is bitterly cold out there tonight, but the full moon looks wonderful.

A busy weekend. On Saturday, Penny and I were volunteering on a GRW stall down in Pontardawe, at their Winter Festival, organised by the Round Table. We heard about it through Arena Pontardawe, with whom we partner for the May dog show and fun day. The lady who organises it is lovely, and one of those Renaissance women who just take your breath away. She is a very accomplished professional artist, and also a well known teacher. As well, she is passionate about horses, in particular those beautiful Spanish Andalucian ones, and she has some which she trains, rides and schools, not for the faint hearted, as they are very high spirited. On top of that, she is active in a number of Welsh equestrian organisations, which is how Penny got to know her, and now she's involved in the Arena project. You can see more about it at their website at www.arenapontardawe.com Just to make me feel even more inadequate, she's gorgeously glamourous and blonde, and also incredibly nice.

Anyway, there we were on our little stall but of course we had to get there first. This meant leaving home at around 7.15, driving down to Glynneath to meet another Greyhound person to pick up some merchandise and doing a handover in the McDonalds car park. When we got there, to our amazement, it was heaving with people and police as the Welsh Rally was passing through, and every rally fan in the land seemed to be in the car park having a coffee. Then down to Pontardawe via the Heads of the Valleys road, which was looking magnificently wintry. When we left home, it was -8, and down in tropical Ponty it was a balmy 10 C. Set up the stall with Andrew, as Penny was still doing morning stables. Andrew then left me to it, drove all the way up to Cardiff to visit the house, did some Christmas shopping in Cardiff, got some groceries and then drove all the way back to Ponty to pick me up. He thinks he did about 200 miles in total. What a star. So it was then back home, watching the car temp gauge fall steadily as we climbed higher and higher, till back home we were back down to -2 on arrival.

Sunday we spent very quietly as we were both tired, as were the dogs. Andrew decided to put up some Christmas lights, and they look wonderful. I like the house to be visible from space at this time of year, none of that mimsy tasteful nonsense for me. I'm busy with a variety of Christmas crafty things at the moment, mainly cross-stitch. Watched Dawn on QVC this afternoon, my regular Tuesday afternoon treat, and picked up Andrew around 5.

One of the things I bought at the fair was a little cook book put together by the ladies of St Peters Church, and today I have been trying out a couple of the recipes. One was for a chocolate fudge made with cream cheese, and the other was the reason I bought the book, a dish called Impossible Pie! With a challenge like that who could resist? I've just taken it out of the oven, and it looks puffed and golden with a coconut crust, so we'll be eating it later and I'll report back. What made the recipe slightly harder was the quantities were given in cups, which is how most American recipes are, so I needed to do some conversions as I prepped it. Andrew has just returned from his run, so now it's time for our pasta and spinach with pine nuts.

We've had our first snow, and the weather is still freezing. Most of the back garden and a lot of the front is frozen solid, with frost that does not disappear during the day. When Andrew was driving to work yesterday, the temperature was -6. Brrrr. This morning, Carwyn the postman was saying we are due to get more bad weather at the end of the week.

My plans have been disrupted somewhat. For some weeks, I've been struggling with a very painful problem in my right foot/heel. I even stopped walking the woofs with Andrew for a while. It was starting to get a lot better, and in my impatience, we went for a lovely walk on Sunday (as reported in previous post). Anyway, Monday was payback time, and I was in agony. My plans to go to the Winter Fair were scuppered, especially as outside was like a skating rink. Fortunately, had my first appointment today with the physiotherapist. After a great deal of stretching, prodding, squeezing, bending and extensive note-taking, it appears I have plantar fasciitis. Nothing uncommon about it, nothing exciting. Anyway, we've got a multi-pronged plan of attack with exercises, stretches, ice, heel inserts and a rethink on shoes/boots. Also, I'm banned from dog walking for three weeks. Top marks to the physio for being very professional, reassuring and able to answer all my questions. The trouble with being a cancer patient is that you have to get into the habit of asking lots of questions, and that hasn't left me. More excitingly, his partner is also a keen cross-stitcher and knitter, and regularly takes part in a local Stitch and Bitch session over in Hay-on-Wye. Hopeful that we can get together at some point.

Card requests are coming in, more of a trickle than a flood at the moment - don't forget, if you'd like one, please email me, especially if you are overseas.