So Here It Is, Merry Christmas

Paul will be tearing his hair out, no doubt, but yesterday evening was my daughter's school Christmas concert. In November. As I've already explained, however, the somewhat previous nature of the performance is all Robbie Williams' fault, so you can call off the Christmas Cops.

Anyway, a good time was had by all, especially since child number one has overcome the tendency to freeze up on stage. This time out she lapped it all up, treating everyone to the kind of air guitar performance she could only have picked up from watching Jimi Hendrix. Or her dad.

The early advent of festive spirit has also resulted in badgering, hectoring and other forms of subtle persuasion from the small ones to get the Christmas tree up. It's a task we've been putting off, in no small part because of the venomous creepy crawlies likely to have converted the tree box into their own des-res since the tree was last used. One thing northern hemisphere types are blissfully free from is the sensation when a red back runs at you from out of the foliage...

Still, even this had a serendipitous consequence - the layers of insect spray with which I had to cover the tree parts to ensure no fanged surprises remained hidden inside have double remarkably well for faux snow. Fortunately my kids are now both old enough not to lick the branches.

Don't laugh. These things happen.