I CAN’T believe that it is already Christmas Eve.

It’s all part of getting older, but it is increasingly hard to fathom how fast time is ticking by.

Because we have already been with my parents for a few days, there will be no rush today as there has been in the past when we’ve had the extra drama of cancelled or delayed flights thanks to fog and snow.

We can simply enjoy the anticipation of the day to come. I will move mum and dad’s presents to below the tree and my brother and I will exchange gifts, something we always do a day early.

Dad can’t pass a day without going out ‘for a message’ as we term it in Northern Ireland, meaning a wee jaunt to a shop. His own mum was the same, unable to resist a little expedition to somewhere or other.

When he finally returns, we’ll sit down for a family meal around the dinner table – bickering essential – before moving into the sitting room where my mother will have her only alcoholic drink of the year, a small glass of Bailey’s with ice.

Little does she know but we have splashed out on the all-new chocolate version, which costs an incredible amount for very little actual end product, but tastes divine, for her stocking. We have counted on its appealing to her very sweet tooth!

Later tonight, I will meet my best friend for our traditional beverage before I head straight to church with my father for the midnight service.

Re the former, we have managed to sustain this tradition for almost 20 years now, and everyone in our house accepts that on this evening, come hell or high water, I will be with her in the local pub.

I even managed it when I was very heavily pregnant – I ordered milk from the bar – and when my flight was delayed due to the weather last year. That meant that I landed with her after 11pm (she was ready and waiting with some company and a drink) fresh from being picked up by my father from the airport.

But before I get my glad rags on and leave, there will be the excitement of preparing the tray for Santa and his reindeer, something which hasn’t been done in our house in a long, long time.

As our daughter is now old enough to understand it all, we’ll recommence the family tradition of leaving out a mince pie and glass of milk for the main man, plus a carrot for Rudolph. The husband’s keen on leaving footprints in flour – we’ll see.

A Merry Christmas to you all! See you on the other side in 2014.