So I've grabbed my tassels and streamers and I'm ready for the pole dance. The May pole, that is.
Chocolate and cake are still in abundance. Twinkling lights still on the tree. Christmas cards are still falling from their allotted holder every time the door opens. We can't move on though. It is that strange vacuum between Christmas and New Year where things aren't quite celebratory and yet aren't yet quite back to normal.
A huge and monstrous cat from Icelandic folklore, who eats people who have not received new clothes before Christmas eve. Horrific.
Every year the conversation goes like this:
Child - "Santa isn't real, he's my dad!"
Me - "Wow! Your dad is Santa? How cool is that?"
Kids have it all don't they? We know that Christmas is all about them, from the baby Jesus to Father Christmas/Santa Claus coming down the chimney to leave them gifts under the tree. From November and throughout December the marketing is all about them, too. Buy this doll that looks like a wrinkled newborn and produces stuff from its man-made orifices that's as ugly as anything nature can provide. Films and television are all about keeping the faith of Santa. All aimed at children and those who provide for them.
Legend has it that when the first Christmas advert for Coca-Cola appears on television, then Christmas proper has begun.
It seems weirdly logical that the month following Halloween was once called 'Blood Month'.
Abbey Road, Mr Spock, castles, the headless horseman, gargoyles, cats, Dracula, ghosts, owls, teeth and not forgetting my logo. All of these are things I have seen carved into pumpkins. Brilliant, every one of them.
Apples have always been symbols of mysticism and love both in art and religion. But they are so much more than that.
There were times during my childhood when we holidayed during the new school term, in September. It seemed to me, as an eight-year-old, that we were indulging in some kind of secret activity. In those days the holiday was in Wales, which still remains my favourite country.
Moon Day on 20 July commemorates the Moon Landings in 1969. But the moon has always been a special thing, especially to our ancestors.
Full moon in May means rice pudding in our house. It is the Buddhist festival of Wesak, or Buddha Day, and rice pudding symbolises Buddha's first meal following his Enlightenment, which was a sort of rice pudding.
It comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb. March, named after the Roman God of War, Mars, would certainly suggest an aggressive month. In modern times too, with the exception of the recent War on Afghanistan, almost all major US-NATO led military operations since the invasion of Vietnam have begun in the month of March.
Some years are barren and in others, abundant. Daffodils. But whether they are growing naturally or are of the paper variety, there is no avoiding them on 1 March in Britain. These lovely spring flowers of eternal cheeriness and hope are the national flower of Wales, 1 March being Saint David's Day, the Patron Saint of Wales.
The Romans gave us Venus and Cupid. The Egyptians had Bast, the cat goddess. The Greeks - Aphrodite and Eros. The Moroccans had Qandisa, who made men go insane.
Not that I really need an excuse, but February used to be known as Cake Month in Anglo-Saxon times and to honour that, I eat cake. Quite a lot of it actually.
Henry VIII, Elizabeth I, Shakespeare, Isaac Newton and Walter Raleigh would not have wished anyone a happy New Year on this date. I don't know whether they were curmudgeons or not, but the reason they would not have made the standard jokes about New Year resolutions is quite simple. The first day of January was not the 'new year'.