Building Up Intensely to de-Christmasing
On the First Day of Christmas my True Love Gave to Me, a Partridge in a Pear Tree. On the Second Day of Christmas my True Love started taking things down. She called it de-Christmasing.
No Maids a-Milking nor Lords a-Leaping. Not a Piper in sight, and NOOO GO-LD Rings.
Just the First Day of Christmas then, as the other Eleven Days of Christmas get left outside for Bulky-Item Pick-Up, and wasted in the build up to the Great New Year’s Eve Party where we’ll sing a song in an old Scottish dialect that we don’t understand. If it happens at all, that is.
But we’ll celebrate the build-up to it nonetheless.
Of course for that special Christmas Eve feel I could always go strolling through some malls. But you know? I’m almost Christmased-out thinking about it.
I just got an automated eMail from England wish me a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. That’s not even funny.
Let me go get some cheery entertainment for you, to spare ya from these tired old records.
Eolaí gan Fhéile:
