The 12 Cracking Days Of Christmas

Remember this?

‘Christmas is coming. The Goose is getting fat. Please put a penny in the old man’s hat’… and so on. Well I have news for you. Yes. Christmas is still coming. In fact it’s been coming since late September. But the goose is no longer fat. The goose is now morbidly obese and becoming a drain on the National Health Service. The old man doesn’t have a hat and he has no use for a penny. He’s now a young guy, on the high street, with a large beard, a registered charity identity badge and a clipboard, who wants you to commit to a monthly direct debit. And he’s probably on his mobile phone at the same time. “Watevs Bruv”.

Yup. Things have changed. But it’s still Christmas, the season of goodwill and rum-punch, so in a rare moment of altruism I thought I would help your present ideas by sharing with you a story about what happened to me last year… but only because I am out of pennies!

It started on Christmas Eve Eve (the night before Christmas Eve)  Mrs Drew had gone off to spend Christmas with her Mother in Australia,  leaving me to my own devices. She had called to see how I was and we talked about Christmas presents. I complained that she never bought me presents for the garden. She said. ‘Well you never know. Maybe this Christmas.” After we had said cheerio,  I was dozing in front of the fire and I remember mumbling to myself, “I wish she’d just buy me a new pole pruner. That old Comice tree will need some maintaining next season”, when suddenly, the door knocked loudly in an ominous, Christmas Carol, kind of a way. Could it be Jacob Marley, come to tell me to mend my ways and stop using irrelevant cultural and literary  references in my blogs? Or my accountant with a joyful Christmas message about getting my tax return to him before Jan 31st or face a £100 fine?  As I got up to answer it, light flooded into the room, and I realised it was Christmas Eve. I must have been asleep all night. Who could it be? I opened the door to be confronted by an unusual looking delivery man. A jolly, rotund man in red overalls with a shock of white hair, a big white beard and a mischievous glint in his eye. He looked familiar somehow. He gave me a long, thin package “Sign here”. He said  “Ho, Ho, Ho.” I looked at the package “Hoe?” I said. ” I doubt if it’s one of those. I didn’t order one”. When I looked up, before you could say “That hoe pun doesn’t work in print, what do you think you are playing at”, he had gone. I opened the package and lo and behold , it was a brand new Pole-prun… but I’ll tell you the next bit in a more traditional way…

On the First day of Christmas my true love sent to me, a pruner to prune my pear tree

On the Second day of Christmas my true love sent to me, two handheld blowers and a pruner to prune my pear tree

On the third Day of Christmas my true love sent to me three Hayter Spirits, two handheld blowers and a pruner to prune my pear tree

On the Fourth day of Christmas my true love sent to me Four Compact Ride-ons,  three Hayter Spirits, two handheld blowers and a pruner to prune my pear tree

On the fifth day of Christmas my true love sent to me ‘FIVE STIGA PROS’, … Four Compact Ride-ons,  three Hayter Spirits, two Handheld Blowers and a pruner to prune my pear tree…

The list went on. Cracking gifts, all from MowDirect, were being delivered to my door every day. My front lawn was beginning to look like a garden machinery trade show. MowDirect’s couriers barely had time to sleep as the gifts piled up. “And since when did they change the courier’s uniforms to red and green jerkins and hats with bells?” I thought to myself.  More and more presents arrived. Six Mowers mowing, Seven Strimmers strimming, Eight scarifiers, Nine shredders shredding, ten garden tractors, eleven petrol chainsaws, 12 Splitters splitting and, of course, the pruner to prune my pear tree… again!

But nowhere, nowhere in that list was a shed. And let’s face it, I was going to need a new shed. A really really big shed. A shed the size of Kings Cross Station. Shedzilla!  I needed to store all these wonderful things. What to do? I decided to wish. If I wished hard enough I was sure it would come. After all, it worked last time. So I closed my eyes and wished as hard as I could. And as I wished I heard a strange sound, the sound of a large object falling through the sky. Possibly an object made of wood, creosoted and with storage space for a lot of equipment. So I looked up and, yup, a giant shed, more like a warehouse actually, was about to land on my head. I sighed. “It’s like The Monkey’s Paw this”.  Be careful what you wish for I thought to myself as I closed my eyes, waiting for the shed to flatten me into my crowded decking.

And that’s when  I woke up. In a sweat. Yes, of course, it was all a scary dream brought on by too much pre-Christmas Stilton and too many pints of Old Wobbler’s Cold-Biter at our local. Mrs Drew was at home, no deliveries had come and all I really had was a sore head and some new ideas for Christmas presents. Mind you… she did buy me that pruner to prune my pear tree. A lovely Ryobi RPP-720 Electric Pole-Pruner, in a long, thin parcel.

It turned up the day before Christmas eve, by a courier. A jolly looking rotund man in red overalls with a shock of white hair, a big white beard and a mischievous glint in his eye. You can imagine my surprise. Hmmn. I thought to myself. Perhaps there was a little bit of Christmas magic happening. Mrs Drew said nothing!

Ah well. Enjoy your garden, don’t forget our last despatch for Christmas is Wednesday the 23nd December, for delivery Christmas Eve.  Have a great Christmas or holiday break and if we don’t cross paths this side of Jan 1st… Happy New Year!

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