Deck the Halls

 by Ashley Lister

It's always been a Christmas tradition in our household to put up the decorations on December 1st.

December 1st is our wedding anniversary. (It's also World AIDS Day, which is a nice thing to think about each year when we're celebrating). As a way of celebrating another year of marital bliss we murder a tree and desecrate its corpse with empty decorative balls. If I were a poet I'd probably perceive a metaphor in that paragraph.

This year we almost let the tradition slip past.

As some of you may know, Tracy has been under the weather recently and recovering from a bout of pneumonia. She's just about recovered but even something as banal as decorating a tree proved too tiring - yet she still wanted to be a part of the tradition.

So we waited.

We waited so long that the Muslim family over the road from us managed to get there decorations up ahead of us this year. But, with the impetus of family coming for Christmas dinner and stricken by the terror of having a year without the decorations being in place, we finally got round to making the house look festive this week.

I've already shared my Christmas poem on the blog earlier this week. All I can think to write here is a very short verse that does have a festive subtext.

No one ties knots better 

than a sailor on a yacht

(the monkey's paw, the lark's head 

and the ligature knot).

No one ties more knots 

than a cub scout for his badge

(save for maybe Christian Grey 

whilst he gets at Anna's vadge).

No one ties them tighter 

to stop things from coming loose:

The bowline and the figure eight - 

the cat's paw and the noose.

The granny and the reef knot 

and the famous henchman's splice: 

But no one can tie all these knots

Except my string of Christmas lights.