Ho! Ho! Ho! It's here again. Time to celebrate the birth of Santa. Time to tap up the old Flexible Friend in order to buy shedloads of useless tat for people who already have everything.

Time to give the carbon footprint a boost with all those twinkly lights all over the house, having wasted hours unravelling them and testing every bulb to find the dud ones that stop the whole string from working.

Time to rick your back getting two 20 year old plastic trees and six boxes of baubles out of the loft, just as you remember you did the same thing last January putting them up there!

Time to scribble a few lies on those last minute Xmas cards to people you hoped you'd heard the last of.

Time to stock up with more food than you and your guests could possibly consume (just in case), knowing you'll end up scoffing most of it yourself well into the New Year, and having to re-enroll at Fat Fighters until you can't be arsed to suffer the indignity of the weekly weigh-in any more.

Time for "Carol Singers" !! (Groan!) Fortunately, since 80% of people can no longer even name two carols, let alone remember any of the words, the practise has almost died out. All you get nowadays is the occasional gaggle of giggly teenagers, who lean on the door-bell until you open it, then, with expectant palm outstretched in your face, mumble "Wish you Me'y Crismus 'n Happy Noo Yeeeear!"

My response is to ask if they actually KNOW any carols. They look at me as if I am insane and grunt. I take that as a no, and suggest they go away and learn two carols and come back and sing at least two verses of each, in which case I might reward them. Guess how many have ever returned.

Happy Christmas to one and all.