When I bought this events diary this time last year, I remember thinking 2020 was going to mark the beginning of this century’s roaring twenties, filled with glamorous parties and fun times. How wrong I was… During the first lockdown, I decided to write a pandemic journal. I told myself to hope for a return to normality by June, or at the very worst by September 2020.  And so, somewhat optimistically, I chose the world’s tiniest journal to write in. It turns out I’m no Samuel Pepys and my approach to journaling has been sporadic at best, so there are still a fair few blank pages available.  As the pandemic continued, I started to jot down good things that happened on post-it notes and collected them in a vase. I read them all back on New Year’s Eve which has been a very helpful exercise in gratitude. 2021 is already feeling far more hopeful. My Mom’s having her first Covid vaccine later this month. She has early-onset dementia and paralysis and I haven’t been able to visit her in almost a year. She lives in Ireland in a super safe little country town and the idea of catching a plane from London and inadvertently carrying the virus there is unthinkable. Once I get the jab as well and travel restrictions are lifted, I can’t wait to finally be able to see her again. Happy New Year!