It’s always like this, that Boxing day to New Year’s Eve weird holiday, year almost over, funny lose-the-days-of-the-week time. There is no traffic on the highway up the road. That sound usually accompanies my morning coffee. People in our street sleep later. The Boxing day test starts today. I start allowing unfocused thoughts about the new year to creep into my brain, but I don’t look at them, or encourage them. Not yet. I am still busy thinking about the year that was. I am thinking about what I did and didn’t do, but also noticing how more solid in my ways I have become. Only natural – I’ll be turning 50 in March. I still don’t feel entirely grown up, but I am definitely old when I notice how badly people drive, or how hideous most pop music is, or what the kids are wearing. Like my mother and father were.

I am one of the lucky ones. I love what I do for the duration of the year so there isn’t that special end of year relief and sadness when it is over. I only hope that next year is filled with the same business, energy, creativity, theatre, fun, writing, co-creating, improv, and connecting. And less bullshit, Cape Town, please.