Bah Humbug - It's December again! I've run out of days, and time to write

Oh Bah Humbug. It's Christmas Eve - only just.

Now I've run out of days and time. Tomorrow will be upon us rather soon. Too soon for my liking. And I have not written a Christmassy rhyme.

I have defrosted the turkey, and thought about cooking tomorrow. And that perhaps I might have to take a nap after lunch as eating turkey makes you sleepy.

Which reminds me, Google Translate - you really are quite something when you translate Turkey as Les pays de Dinde. I am still not quite sure what to make of that.

Back to the impending arrival of Christmas Day, which as I write this has already happened in New Zealand. There are photos to prove that Santa has been there already.

It's been raining heavily here, so I hope he has wet-weather tyres and an effective set of anti-lock brakes on his sleigh.

Meanwhile, Santa's elves have finished wrapping the gifts, so I had to take a photo of the tree, with gifts sitting around it.

It made the tree look less ...

well ...

less austere, and more decadent.

Amazing what a pile of Christmas wrapped empty cardboard boxes can do for a tree.

And so, dinner out of the way, we became Scandinavian.

In a time honoured tradition, that involves opening gifts early, just in case the Vikings turn up, we all opened a gift, or two before midnight. It takes the edge of having to wait until the morning.

Some Lego, a t-shirt emblazoned with sarcasm, a book of Spanish curses, a book about Artificial Intelligence, which made me wonder whether the tree had any feelings, and, a gift, I was not allowed to leave until morning - Dr Marten's boots.

I tried them on.

I'd never had Dr Marten's boots before.

Now I felt young.

And they so go with the pink shorts I am wearing.

I was tempted to go to sleep in them, as they are rather comfortable ... it reminded me of the first pair of trainers that the boys' step dad bought our youngest son. He wore them to bed. They were special.

I thought about wearing my boots to bed again. And then the cat jumped in the Doc Marten's shoe box.

Bah Humbug, I shall have to write something more Christmassy and pudding-like tomorrow.

Bah Humbug! - It's December AGAIN - 22 more days to go

Twenty-two days to go. No choice. I have to put the Christmas tree up.

I have put it off long enough.

The box was small, and it felt rather lightweight. What had I ordered? I knew I should have ordered the 6ft tree. But then, it might have been really wide. The five foot one, from the box, looks like it might have been subject to some austerity cuts. I suppose I did rather propose a Scrooge-led Christmas.

Having erected the tree,  I stood back to admire it. My, was it short.

Nothing for it.

I would have to cheat. So out came the leather packing case. Out came a large slab of cardboard. Out came a Christmas-looking table cloth. Suddenly the tree was a foot taller. I had a 6ft Christmas tree for the price of a 5ft. Definitely in keeping with getting more for less.

Next the lights. I refuse to purchase new lights, unless of course all of them are liable to electrocute me. This year, only one set decided to embark on some mad random frenzy and take no notice of how many times I pushed the stupid button.

I wondered whether Scrooge would have thrown them out or bypassed the control box. Now that's an idea.

The tree being someone smaller than I had anticipated, only required two strands of fairy lights this year - definitely an austerity tree.

So, there we are - savings all round.

Smaller tree = less capital outlay
Smaller tree = fewer branches = less fairy lights = less opex.



I could go into business, offering Austerity Christmas Decorating services.

The only downside with that - I suspect, given that this involves austerity, I am not sure how many paying customers I would actually attract.

And so, once again, before I decorate the tree, I am reduced to a glum Bah, flipping, Humbug.