There’s something tender about this week between Christmas and New Year. It’s a strange, floaty space. Not quite the year that was, not yet the year that’s coming. It’s a quiet pause in the middle and a moment where the noise softens just enough for us to hear ourselves think.

The other day I walked into my local fruit and veg shop and found perfectly fresh strawberries on sale for $1.42. Jackpot! That little thrill reminded me that joy doesn’t need a big stage. And honestly, what’s ever truly perfect?