We have our Christmas tree!
Off we went, on a murky, mizzling afternoon, to the Christmas Tree farm. We always go to the same farm – and every year, there seem to be more people there, good-naturedly battling to fetch their trees home.
As usual, we took far too long choosing. From hundreds of perfectly good trees, we had to find the one that was just right for us. It had to be the right height, the right bushiness, have the right smell – and just be right.
As usual, the farm yard looked, and smelled, magical. Coloured lights strung up in the big trees cast a warm glow over a veritable forest of fresh, spicy-sharp smelling Christmas trees. The barn was festooned with wreaths and garlands, and happy families cheerfully struggled to compress their slightly-too big trees into family cars.
Everyone was smiling and happy. Mud, sharp needles, queues, dark, cold, recession? No-one cared. We were all getting our Christmas trees, ready to celebrate a festival as old as time. A festival that has lived through countless generations, outlasted wars, Governments, economic crises, famine and plague.
Really, if Christmas didn’t already exist, we’d have to invent it.