My top ten Christmas traditions by Daisy Bell

A month before Christmas we all congregate at my mum's house for 'Stir-up Sunday', when everyone takes a turn to mix the Christmas pudding batter. Our family pudding recipe has been passed down through the generations: it includes lots of chopped nuts for texture and grated apple - delicious. Every year I tell my mum she should just buy the pudding to save herself the work, but I'm always secretly relieved when she insists on doing it herself. Ditto the Christmas cake and mince pies.

When it comes to decorating the Christmas tree, my personal philosophy is 'go hard or go home'. Tasteful, colour co-ordinated trees may well have their place (the foyer of a boutique hotel perhaps, or Buckingham Palace) but that place is not my house. I throw decorations, tinsel, lights and random sparkly things at our tree until there's barely a pine needle to be seen. If visitors look at my finished tree and wince, perhaps even recoil slightly, then I know my work is done. (Btw, I feel very strongly that decorations shouldn't be put up until two weeks before the big day at the very earliest. There are few things more depressing than the sight of municipal 'Xmas' lights looped around lampposts in November.)

'Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house, not a creature was stirring… except for me, feverishly wrapping a mountain presents fuelled by mulled wine and mince pies. I never used to enjoy wrapping presents, but then I got one of those tape-dispensers you wear on your wrist and now I am a wrapping machine. Robo-Wrapper, if you will.

As a child I would be awake on Christmas morning by 4am and the first chocolate of the day would have been unwrapped soon after that, but these days my pre-dawn chocolate binge has largely been replaced by early-morning booze. My mum does the best Christmas breakfasts: blinis with smoked salmon, coffee and a glass of fizz, my favourite being Prosecco mixed with the Italian liqueur Tuaca (a la Nigella). There's nothing like being a teeny bit drunk at 9am.

On Christmas morning while the turkey is in the oven we pull on our wellies and go for a walk. There's something quite special about being out and about on Christmas Day, as it's the one day of the year that can be sure that most of the people whose path you cross will be spending their day doing pretty much exactly the same as you. Strangers will smile and make eye contact with you, bonded by the knowledge that you've probably all been up since 5am, trying to fit the batteries into a Hug-Time Poppy doll.

Is it terrible to admit that my favourite Christmas tradition is the eating? For the rest of the year I am basically vegan, but at Christmas I gorge myself like an Edwardian gentleman with mutton-chop sideburns and gout. I love the look of a magnificent bronzed turkey gracing the table, but for me that's just a canvas for the real Christmas delicacies: chestnut stuffing, bread sauce, cranberry sauce, red cabbage, sprouts, pigs in blankets, gravy… Even the words are like poetry to me. Someone should write a carol: 'The 12 Condiments of Christmas'.

On the subject of Christmas carols, I say - bring 'em on! The two-week rule applies here as well, though: as much as I love The Pogues' Fairytale of New York, or Mariah's All I Want for Christmas, there's a time and place for Christmas songs - and that's not in October, got that Heart FM? As the big day draws near, however, our Christmas CD will be on a loop for car journeys and kitchen discos. I also love listening to the carols from Kings on Radio 4 on Christmas Eve afternoon while finishing off preparations for the big day.

If you're coming to Christmas at our house - and do drop round, the more the merrier - feel free to express your inner Christmas Tree fairy by wearing something suitably fabulous. (You too ladies!) I'm thinking glitter, a festive jumper, a Santa hat; you know the sort of thing. I like to look around the Christmas lunch table and know, without a shadow of doubt, that it is the 25th December. Of course, if you're unable to choose your own outfit (ie. if you're an animal, or under the age of five) then I'm afraid Christmas costumes will be mandatory. I can't resist a 'reindeer' dog or a 'snowman' toddler.

I am in confused awe of those families who play 'parlour games' after Christmas lunch, as generally we are too stuffed to move, let alone act out the movie title Deuce Bigalow, Male Gigolo solely through the medium of mime. Post-turkey at our house is a time for slumping in armchairs eating Christmas cake while watching the smaller members of the family, buzzed up on Yule Log, trying out their new toys. On one memorable Christmas my daughter and her cousins spent a happy hour putting a large cardboard box on their heads and taking turns running into things, while the adults sat round in a stupor chuckling indulgently, rather than screeching 'for god's sake be careful of Granny's lamp' as we would do usually.

I love my family and always look forward spending time with them, so we never argue. Of course, this is a complete lie, but generally we all get on pretty well and, to be quite honest, there's nobody I'd rather spend Christmas with.