Christmas Decorations in Victoria Street

With a return home to normality comes Christmas angst.

The fattened turkeys and geese are not the only things beginning to worry, I am too.
There are but 6 weeks left in which I can bankrupt the Dower House coffers.

The pundits are eager to tell us how much it costs to raise a child, but what they omit to remind us is that children are not just for Christmas; they are there for life. Not only that, but they get partners and have children, and before you know it, one is bearing Christmas gifts to a veritable army of dependents.

Don't get me wrong, I love my children, I like their partners and I love my grandchildren. It's just that there are an awful lot of them- I wish I hadn't read the bit in the Good Book which says' Go forth and Multiply'. I was rather good at the multiplying and now I'm having to be rather good at dividing my assets equally between the whole bang jing.

I made a start to the shopping this morning in the belief that action is better than worry; besides some of presents can be dispatched this weekend if they're wrapped up in time. That means a fight with paper and sellotape and awkwardly shaped gifts - oh my cup doth surely overflow.

His Lordship is of course immune to Christmas worries as he strides over the moors with his pals today. He may give the festivities a thought a few days before the event. How lucky is that!

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