I have been prompted by my good friend Flaxen Saxon (seen above in festive repose) to reflect on the meaning of this jolly festive season.
This year I have triumphed over adversity by defeating the intentions of Mrs D to erect the festive tree! Only last year I managed to persuade her that £30 was a total waste of money for a real tree that dropped shit all over the lounge floor and oft developed a worrying lilt to the left which threatened to spew the contents of the water bucket it stood in, turning our living space into a small replica of a Cumbrian town. We purchased – God forbid! – an artificial tree…
So this year, there’s no tree at all. The grandchildren aren’t coming so they won’t be disappointed and I don’t have to faff about with the lights and baubles or climb up in to the loft to retrieve the bloody things! Next year I’m hoping we can cancel Christmas altogether.
It’s been rather quiet around here this week. The road is full of cars that park here while they bugger off to the station to catch the train to the airport for their two week all inclusive festive break in the Canaries. It’s rather nice because it means the cunts from M&S don’t get to park under my bedroom window at 5am every morning.
Also the season of good will 2015 doesn’t seem to have included drunken tarts and chavs rolling up the road on their way to the ale house. And there haven’t been any Christmas parties either. Thank God for austerity. Seems there’s something good to be said for it after all.
So, Christmas dinner on our own. We would have gone to the daughter’s but she doesn’t want us there. She reckons she wants a family Christmas with just the kids. We had the same idea, but the irony seems lost on her.
Roll on New Year! Same shit, different date.
+ + + CORRECTION ! + + +
Mrs D wishes to point out that she never spend more than £5-10 on a tree because she waits until Christmas Eve when they’re desperate to sell them off! A couple of years back she got one from B&Q for a quid.
When we lived in a bloody great barn, she got 12 foot tall one for a tenner – and she got them to deliver it for free. It was their display tree and what else were they going to do with it.
I stand duly chastised for my poetic license!!! Arse!!!