IT IS that most wonderful time of the year when all opinion columns are obliged to nick their opening lines from hoary old musical chestnuts by Rat Packers (I nearly went with ‘It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas’, but I think I might have used that one last year).

Seriously, though, I love Christmas. Don’t you? There’s decent TV, for starters – I am beyond excited at the imminent publication of the double-issue Radio Times, and have my highlighter pen at the ready.

And at last I have a credible excuse to stock up on Quality Street. These come to the fore when filling our advent calendar. It’s my job to make sure each pocket contains everyone’s favourite: creams for me, nuts for the Other Half and fudge for Daughter.

Last year, we didn’t find the calendar until Christmas Eve; epic fail. Daughter was distraught, and made me dig it out in mid-October this time. Ever since she was small, we have made beep-beep searching noises while locating each day’s pocket; she’s 15 now, and we still do. It’s tradition.

We kicked off the season with a trip to Bath Christmas Market. A couple of weekends ago. It was HEAVING, not so much an amble round stalls as being swept along by the crowds. It was great to see a couple of Cornish food producers there, namely Freda’s peanut butter and Langley’s Rocky Road. But it’s not an experience I want to repeat in a hurry, and I don’t really need to with so much happening on my doorstep.

I live in Truro, and love to see it light up at this time of year, with German-style Christmas markets and silver bands. However, I’m aware that some of independent businesses feel excluded from festivities, tucked away as they are down side streets that aren’t as merry and bright as the main drag, and are blocked off in the interests of pedestrian safety.

I’m local, so I know they are there, and seek them out for that extra-special gift. But would I make the effort to squeeze past the barriers if I had made my way into the city from Penzance or Bodmin, for example, unaware of the delights that awaited me there? I suspect I, too, would stick to the main attractions in Lemon Quay or Boscawen Street.

As such, I’d urge shoppers to explore a little further, as there are some cracking shops and food purveyors in the likes of Quay Street, Duke Street, Nalders Court and Pydar Mews.

Daughter has already been Christmas shopping several times, buying presents for friends and for herself, naturally. The Other Half has bought everything from his favourite charity catalogue (delivered last week and left outside in the rain by a clueless courier). As yet, I have bought a couple of stocking fillers and that’s it. I haven’t even ordered the Christmas dinner yet – yikes.

But things started to smell festive this weekend just gone, when I fired up the oven and baked the cake. We also went ice skating at the Eden Project – an annual pilgrimage, it’s always fun, and the Christmas lights show has really stepped up a notch this year.

We’re looking forward to Heligan’s Night Garden, and I’m hoping there are tickets left for Handel’s Messiah at Truro Cathedral on Saturday [December 13]. Daughter, meanwhile, is going to see the Hall For Cornwall Christmas show, Aladdin, as a young leader with the Brownies, and has her heart set on the Boxing Day swim at Charlestown (brrr).

Perhaps we’ll head a bit further afield in the coming weeks. It has been many years since I sang with a choir under the Christmas garland at Cotehele, and I note that this year’s swag measures 60ft and 38,000 dried flowers - the highest total on record, thanks to an exceptional growing season. It’s on display in the Great Hall until Monday, January 5.

Then there are the experiences I’ve yet to tick off my Coirnish Christmas list. These include the annual Montol festival in Penzance on December 21: marking the shortest day (the winter solstice) with a colourful festival that blends ancient pagan traditions with modern community spirit.

And I’ve never seen Bude Tunnel Christmas lights, which have become a beloved annual tradition ever since someone posted the Sainsbury's car park walkway on social media for a bit of a laugh in 2018.

But one thing is for sure: come Christmas Eve, you will find me braising a red cabbage and icing my Christmas cake with Nine Lessons and Carols piping out of the radio. With any luck, I’ll have enough time and energy left to go down to Truro Cathedral – where the ceremony originated in 1880, courtesy of Bishop Edward White Benson – and sing a few carols myself.