Christmas takes careful timing. Decorating too early is all wrong, but you don't want to be flying up stepladders at the last minute, either. Now is about the right time to start, or at least to haul the boxes out of their hiding places and sort out what we've got. Some of the garlandy stuff is a bit past it.
The holly will have to wait until Friday. Gathering holly is one of those things which is my job, not because Tony would be unwilling, but because he's extremely busy at this time of year, and besides, he wouldn't get it right. (The kids are different. I trained them in holly hunting. But none of them are at home just now.) You know how it is. It's not just a case of clipping holly, it's getting the right sort of holly, in the right quantities. It's a skill, made a lot easier because holly grows at the bottom of the garden. (Except it isn't so much a garden as a swamp today. Even the ducks wear wellies.)
Lovely Younger son was fascinated by the whole Christmas decorating thing when he was nearly two, and followed me around the house while I wobbled on ladders and whacked tacks into hidden corners of windowsills. "Mummy bang bang with a hammer!" he said. ALL DAY.
We've never let him forget it.
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