Festive cheer: Judy Murray, Lorraine Kelly and other Scots share their Christmas traditions

The past couple of years Andy has been committed to playing an event in Abu Dhabi which starts on Boxing Day, so he has had to spend Christmas there.

However, last year, both boys were home for a few days. It's all about the board games for us – especially Scattergories, team dominoes and, of course, a Christmas jigsaw...

We try to go to the midnight service at St Blane's Church and we have been known to crash the carol concert at the golf club.

Christmas lunch is always fab. We do a course each. My mum is a great cook but is teased endlessly for making the turkey, chipolata and bacon portions too small.

She forgets the boys are men now and they reckon she feeds them like they were still 12-years-old. She's also very good at providing out-of-date drinks. We check every sell-by label and usually take a few with us, just in case.

Lorraine Kelly, TV presenter

I love Christmas and have lots of traditions. I write my cards on December 1 while watching It's A Wonderful Life. On Christmas morning I have a glass of bubbly with Steve and Rosie while opening our presents and then we watch The Snowman. Later on, Steve cooks the Christmas dinner and I do the washing up.

I love a brisk walk with Rosie on the beach at Broughty Ferry after dinner to blow away the cobwebs before settling down with the turkey sandwiches in front of the Downton Abbey special.

Janey Godley, comedian

Our Christmas is nothing like the adverts you see on TV. There are no men in suits and dickie bows or women in glittery dresses and high heels handing round a prawn ring.

Christmas consists of being in our pyjamas with the eating staggered throughout the day. We are sweating as every ring on the cooker is burning and a big oven has been on for hours. We take turns napping and eating.

My daughter Ashley is a great cook, so she will oversee the menu: minimal meat and major greens. There will be her homemade panna cotta and another speciality which is taco shells dusted with cinnamon and drizzled in icing. I'm not allowed near the cooking as I'm crap.

We are not big drinkers, but we do have some nice wine. I have a dress I'm going to call my "eating tent".

We don't have any visitors on Christmas Day because I don't really like people. It will be my husband, Ashley and I. My dad is in a care home, but he's just round the corner – only 66 steps away – so I will go and see him.

I have a bit of an issue with living to excess in a time of austerity when so many people rely on food banks. I think we need to be mindful that gluttony isn't a nice thing.

Janey Godley will be at Wild Cabaret in Glasgow on Thursdays and performing at The Stand throughout the festive period. Visit wildcabaret.com and thestand.co.uk

Mark Beaumont, adventurer

Each Christmas Eve we go for a walk up Norman's Law in Fife, trooping up there as a family either first thing in the morning or last thing at night with mince pies and mulled wine.

Christmas Day starts with a glass of Champagne before getting stuck into the presents. This will be the first year that my daughter, Harriet, is aware of what Christmas is.

She is two-and-a-half and saying things like: "Christmas tree" and "Snowman". Last year Harriet was still more excited about the wrapping paper than the presents. As she gets older it will be fun to create our own family traditions.

I've not been roped into cooking Christmas dinner, but that's because I married into the Kitchin family. If we are all together it is usually Tom – my wife Nicci's big brother – who does the cooking.

Follow Mark Beaumont on Twitter @MrMarkBeaumont or visit markbeaumontonline.com

Limmy, comedian

There is nothing people can buy me for Christmas – I don't need a new games console, computer or television. I'm not into clothes either. I have all the DVDs and CDs I want. So, I tell people to get me chocolate. I always end up with loads of tins and selection boxes.

To avoid sugar dips and crashes over several weeks, I eat it all in one day. I give my pancreas a bashing. It is non-stop. If I'm walking across the room to get the remote for the telly, I'll pick up a few chocolates to tide me over on the journey.

I don't like sharing chocolate. I only share to avoid getting hassle or because further down the line someone might have sweets I want. The good thing is my girlfriend Lynn and I like different ones – she's not keen on strawberry fillings and I don't like praline – so it works out fine.

If there is any chocolate left on Boxing Day, I'll finish it then. After that I stop. I don't feel the need to go out and buy any more.

Limmy Live! is at the Clyde Auditorium in Glasgow from January 28-31. Visit secc.co.uk

Libby McArthur, actor

My mum had four boys, four girls and three nervous breakdowns! I love being part of a big family and at this time of year the more of us I can squeeze through my door the better.

Each Christmas morning I'd plead, from the bottom bunk, with my brother on the top bunk, to get up. Eventually, we'd find my parents had somehow managed to leave each of us a wee pile under the tree.

There would be an annual, a selection box, a big tube of sweeties, a few wee daft cheap things, something new to wear and the One Big Toy we all wanted.

Waiting to open this was so excruciatingly bitter sweet, because we had to take turns, from oldest to youngest, pile by pile, and wait for everyone to be finished. Being second youngest I was in an agony of excited anticipation, fit to burst every Christmas morning.

I tried to do the same with my own family, but no luck. I want them to eke out every last bit of glee. But they just look at me and wonder what I'm on about, as wrapping paper flies all about the room ...

Kerry Hudson, author

Growing up, because we moved around a lot, it was our Christmas tradition to have the same little things wherever we were.

My mum always put out a fresh pair of pyjamas for us on Christmas Eve and I had a stocking with a jar of pickled onions in it (that was very important, it wasn't Christmas without it). We would go for a big, long walk – whether that was somewhere nice by the sea or in a crappy council estate. The idea was that if you had those little things, it made it home.

We moved around in the way that a lot of poor people who aren't rooted by a job or much of a community do, constantly moving from town to town looking for better lot for themselves which sadly often isn't there unfortunately.

My family are from Aberdeen – fishermen and fishwives originally – and, perhaps not even consciously for my mum, we took the mackerel route and worked our way down the country to Norfolk and Great Yarmouth. We had many Christmases in many different places.

That is why those traditions became so important. While tiny little things, I think my mum had to work hard to find the money to pay for them. They were nice and made things familiar even when we were in an unfamiliar environment.

I loved pickled onions as a kid. I would eat the whole jar and give myself a belly ache. My mum had to confiscate them.

I still try to have nice new pyjamas for Christmas Eve, go for the long walk and, of course, get the pickled onions. That is an absolute rule. I have kept those three traditions perhaps because I have carried on that nomadic existence. Last year I was Buenos Aires, two years before that in Hanoi. I have also spent Christmas in New York.

It is nice to have those traditions you can carry anywhere in the world. Pickled onions are quite hard to find in Vietnam, although surprisingly less so in Argentina. In Vietnam I had kimchi – or the closest Southeast Asian equivalent.

I'm living in London and this year I will be looking after my friend's place and her cat in Highgate. I'm going there with my partner. There will be fresh pyjamas, pickled onions and a big walk. And a big meal and a big sleep.

I'm hoping to go do some work at a local soup kitchen in Hackney. I have done that a few times. My new adult tradition is to try and do something which feels a bit purposeful because it is easy to over-indulge and over-consume.

Kerry Hudson's novels Thirst and Tony Hogan Bought Me an Ice-cream Float Before He Stole My Ma are published in paperback by Vintage, both priced £8.99.

Eilidh Child, athlete

My favourite festive movie is The Muppet Christmas Carol – my sisters Catriona and Iona love it too. We used to all sit down and watch it. I still watch it every Christmas Eve.

Christmas Day is my one full day off. My coach is very understanding about it being a time to relax and spend with family.

When I'm training during the winter months, I'm always strict with my regime and diet. Christmas Day is that one time when I can pig out. I don't need to worry about whether I should be training or what I'm eating. I can enjoy myself and not feel guilty about eating three puddings.

Top of the list is cheese. My sister Catriona is the official family trifle maker so I will have some of that too. My mum makes amazing homemade stuffing and I always look forward to that.

Now Brian and I are married we alternate visiting our families on Christmas Day and Boxing Day. After that if it will be back to training hard in preparation for the Olympic Games in Rio next year.

Follow Eilidh Child on Twitter @EilidhChild

Elaine MacKenzie Ellis, actor

In my house, my dad didn't put his foot down all that often, but when it came to Christmas, paper-hats were non-negotiable. Everyone had to wear one, and that was that.

On the plus side, it meant that whatever squabbles broke out we were all still sporting paper crowns at varying angles of jauntiness. Heads could only be bared after midnight, or when dad fell asleep in the evening, whichever came first.

We always went to the Watchnight service at St Rollox on Springburn Road, and my mum and sister and I still do. Very often, my dad Edwin would have to work late as he was self-employed, so mum, my sister Anne and I would go and come home through Sighthill singing carols at the tops of our voices.

No-one shouted at us to shut up – in fact, people waved and shouted Merry Christmas as we passed. It was like Bedford Falls in the heart of Springburn.

For those who did wish we'd shut it, still wondering who those annoying weans were, I can only apologise. It wasn't the ghosts of Christmas Past ... just my mum Ishbel and her wee girls, coming a-wassailing on Christmas Eve.

Andrew Montgomery, singer-songwriter

For the last 20-something years, we have visited my aunt and uncle in Glasgow where, after a fantastic dinner, we settle down for the Christmas Day quiz.

I say settle down, but in fact, it's more like a custard pie fight on wheels, given that the quiz lasts for about four hours and we are all wearing ridiculous novelty hats chosen for us by my uncle and revealed in a "ceremony" which takes place as we sit down for our meal.

Last year my hat was a Viking helmet because I was about to move to Stockholm, but in previous years we have endured traffic cones, a golf green and flag (with attached ball on string), and a rubber chicken ...

As quizmaster, my uncle plays the part of good-natured martinet to perfection, randomly docking points or adding to either of the two teams' scores for some imagined slight, lapse in politesse or anything else that takes his capricious fancy.

Throw in liberal use of a musical Christmas card (last one to stand up and dance badly when the card is suddenly opened loses points), and it's fair to say that we are deep in shambling farce country, where the only response is to drink more booze and pretend it's all going to be fine.

Andrew Montgomery's album Ruled by Dreams is out now. Visit andrewmontgomery.bandcamp.com/releases

Interviews by Ann Fotheringham and Susan Swarbrick