Greetings And Tall Tales: Mr Big And His Baubles

It’s a monster, but there’s really little to be done now, other than wonder if the elderly relatives can be stacked in a corner of the garage or somewhere…

FAR be it from me to stifle anyone’s festive spirit, particularly with Slade blasting out their iconic merriment everywhere you turn, but there’s a domestic problem lurking. Allow me to explain: we’ve never plumped for a modestly sized sapling. You know, the sort that nestles unobtrusively in a corner of the room as a gentle reminder of the season? In our house Spousey insists on buying the biggest of everything. Something to do with his ego, I reckon, which in foliage terms means we share Christmas with the alpha male of the forest.

Are you planning to recreate a woodland scene in your lounge again this year, City Wife enquires when ringing to tell me she’s dispatched a courier to collect a batch of my Cranberry Sauce with Cloves. I respond with conviction: I’ve decided to surprise my husband and choose our tree myself. That’s tomorrow’s job, just as soon as I’ve created a wreath and put the finishing touches to my homemade crackers. Oh, and brushed up on my calligraphy skills for my hand crafted gift tags.