of eight of those rather sinister black unmarked police cars
tearing past and jostling all the other traffic out of the way as I debated the merits of a Norway Spruce over a Nordman Fir.
The spiky Spruce won, because it smells better
and reminds me of my childhood. The needles will shower
over the tiled floor and stick in my jumper but I can live with that.
I wrestled the 7 foot netted tree in through the boot and across
the flattened back seats so that it could nestle
on my left shoulder for the journey home,
thankful that all available police were occupied in the
opposite direction. Once home I had slightly more difficulty pulling
it out of the boot and then had to saw off the bottom two inches with a rusty saw and find a bucket of water to stand it in. It is leaning drunkenly in the garage,but smells gorgeous. Whilst in there, I inspected my forced hyacinth
bulbs.They are sulking.A few noodly roots have grown but nothing is coming
out of the top. They have been
there for weeks and I'd thought
that surely this year they would be ready for Christmas Day.