Fa la la la la, la la la laaaa

We’ve decked our hall with boughs of holly (and fir), and the way the holly bites at your hands as you go upstairs means I suspect it may be repruned well before Twelfth Night. The cards are artfully arranged and the tree’s been brought in from its cage in the garden, which is supposed to protect it from the attentions of the dogs. Unfortunately they seem to be wising up to this, because as the tree warmed up in the sitting room there wasn’t only the usual exciting piny smell, but there was also an underlying hint of pee …

Anyway, a few drops of Advent oil in a burner seems to have sorted that minor hiccup and now the tree’s either partially or fully dressed, depending on whether we decide to stick with a minimalist look or throw caution to the winds and bung on the lot.

The cards have been distributed around the village (including, sadly, a condolence card to a dear neighbour whose wife died yesterday – please send up a thought for them); the gammon for tonight is simmering, tomorrow’s goose is thawed, the pudding is made, along with more mince pies, and the wine is mulling. I know where all the veg are, but I won’t start those till tomorrow. The presents are wrapped and soon to be placed around the tree. Then I think it’ll be time to make a start on the hangover.

So a merry Christmas, everyone. Love to you all from Genie Towers. Have a wonderful time.