I must pause here a moment as the mulled wine swims round in my head so gently, and the lights twinkle gaily on the tree. I must just rest awhile amid this pleasant buzzing activity. It's Christmas Eve and The Carpenters are on the radio melting my poor heart. Paul is deep in the kitchen cooking up a storm. Promises of turkey and ham and trifle and pie; things roasted, things baked, and strong mixtures served over ice, and other tasties too, far too much for just the two of us. Yes, I must stop here before I am overwhelmed by love and happiness and The Holidays at home, and wish you all a Happy Christmas. And a special best to C.J. May yours be merry indeed.

Well, actually, they didn't.

Unbelievable as it may sound, all of my friends and his were supportive from the very beginning. But this month marks the first anniversary of my relationship with Paul and no one is more surprised than me. Surprised that these feelings have endured and grown. Surprised that I haven't scared him off.

And so we celebrate this month of firsts. The first time we spoke. The first time we used the word 'love'. The first time we met...

Yes, in that order.

Happy Anniversary, my love. It's been a very good year.