I had to go out on Christmas Eve.

I was knackered by the time I got home but Herself asked if I had put up the Christmas Tree. Of course I hadn’t, but we were half expecting the Grandsprogs and they would be disappointed at our lack of decorations.

So I put up the tree and untangled all the lights. We are now down to one working set but that would have to do. I ain’t going out again on Christmas Eve looking for fucking Christmas Tree lights. I got pissed off with the task and decided I would leave the rest until the following day. Tradition states that our tree goes up on Christmas Eve, but that tradition doesn’t say the tree has to be decorated.

So yesterday, after all the usual chores had been done and Herself was nice and clean again I had a look at the tree. It looked a bit bare all right so I set to work untangling all the decorations to stick on it. It still looked a bit scruffy but it would have to do.

Then Herself told me her plan for the rest of the day.

All she wanted was for the front room to be decorated and a fire lit in the hearth. She explained that she wanted the traditional open fire and smell of turf smoke and that it would be lovely to entertain there. I sighed and told her she could forget any more decorations but that I’d light the fire even though I knew no one would be sitting in there [there is seating room for three, and no television].

Of course I couldn’t find any firelighters but I wasn’t in the Scouts for nothing. All it needed was paper, a few twigs and a few sods of turf. As an extra I also brought in a can of lighter fluid and a fire extinguisher [can’t be too careful?].

I lit the fire and soon it was roaring away and thick clouds of smoke poured up the chimney.

Then the thick clouds of smoke started pouring down the chimney and soon the room was filled to capacity with a heavy thick cloud. I couldn’t see from one side of the room to the other. Fuck!

It wasn’t quite the job I had planned for Christmas Day, but I got out the brush and rods and set to sweeping the chimney. For the next hour or so I had a full cardiovascular workout ramming rods up the chimney [with brief trips outdoors to get some oxygen in my lungs]. There was something near the top of the chimney and I couldn’t shift it. It occurred to me that it might be Santa so I renewed my vigorous efforts imagining myself ramming a brush up Santa’s arse.

Eventually I shifted the blockage. It was a fucking bird’s nest and it was fucking massive. It was everything from small branches, through twigs to masses of moss. there were even a few cigarette butts which annoyed me – I never gave any bird permission to smoke in my chimney.

I then had to clean the mess up fast as the fire was still smouldering and if that lot went up the house was going to be next.

I eventually got the fire burning properly.

The visitors arrived not long after – Daughter, New Fella and a Cousin. No kids. I didn’t need the tree after all. We all sat in the main Back Room where there is no fireplace and ergo no fire. They did comment on the strong smell of smoke though!

It was a lovely evening. I had dinner prepared for cooking but Daughter brought us up full plates from her dinner which was brilliant. I can cook our dinner for today.

And the entire house still reeks of turf smoke.

I hope Herself is happy.