In a bold bid to have a “normal” Christmas – like the ones everyone else has, we’ve had a traditional Christmas dinner today – except without a hunk of dead animal at its centre.

I rarely do a “roast” – well, there doesn’t seem much point really. Today though, I’ve pushed out the boat, made a roast – roasted taters, done with rosemary, bay leaves and garlic in a mix of hemp oil and butter. If I’d been served them in a restaurant I’d have been suspicious that they might have been cooked in meat fat. They were good and crispy and well flavoured. Neeps and carrots – swede (or turnip if you’re Scottish or Cornish) and carrot, boiled to within an inch of their lives then mashed with a liberal dollop of butter. The ubiquitous Birds Eye peas and savoy cabbage. The centre-piece was a loaf made from mung beans, butter beans, onion, garlic, cheese, egg and spices. It was a complete experiment and was delicious if a little crumbly. The whole lot was topped with special gravy, made from some of the potato roasting fats, complete with herbs, stock and a great chunk of apple and chilli jelly, thickened with Delia’s special sauce flour.

The whole thing was indeed a lot like a traditional Christmas dinner, except that DM declared the cabbage tough and inedible (so I stomped – not really, I agreed if truth be told).

Actually, there were no fights, tears, tantrums or even grumbles. No-one complained of anything being cold or otherwise wanting (except that stomped on cabbage) and at the end, we were not forced into watching the Queen’s speech or Top of the Pops or even the Sound of Music. We didn’t fall asleep on the sofa and snore all afternoon or tank back the cooking sherry until we couldn’t speak (in fact we didn’t drink at all).

Anyone thinking “oh those poor dogs, no Christmas dinner for them then if there’s not turkey or chipolatas going begging” need not worry. The dogs had a Christmas treat – all of the above plus a generous helping of real chicken (no, not Milly) that was kindly donated by my Mum and Dad. They very generously bring me loads of little bags of meat and gravy that are the left-overs from their Sunday roasts. They freeze them and bring them down to me in cold bags so R&A can have “proper” meat every once in a while.

So, it was nothing like a normal Christmas dinner then – no I suppose not!

Last year, DM was scaring seagulls in his shorts.....this year, he almost got into a fight over wearing them on the beach - but that's another story.