This morning I have been getting in touch with my feminine side.
Although a generally unrecognised concept to men everywhere, I have not only finished my Christmas shopping two whole weeks before Christmas Eve, but all is wrapped with ten days to go.
But no fancy ribbons or stuff, except the parcel for the Memsahib, who likes that sort of thing. I have to retain some semblance of masculinity.
The tree is purchased but will remain outdoors in water until late next week. Our tree goes up for Christmas, not for Advent, and comes down after the twelve days of Christmas, and normally after the council wood-chipping disposal service is finished.
Needing a new tree stand, our previous excellent version having perished in the fire of 2016 (and with Christmas almost cancelled in this household in 2017), I went shopping and I was amazed that I could only find one remaining in the fourth shop I visited yesterday, everyone else having sold out already – and one store already removing unsold Christmas decorations from the shelves.
(Note to self – next year start looking for last-minute Christmas stuff in July, or August at the latest.)
Happy pre-Christmas panic everyone.
General Whiskers' semi-historical wanderings 