Christmas pud; it tastes so good,
It’s got honey and spice; they sure are nice,
With fruit and nuts; good for the gut,
Christmas pud; it tastes SO GOOD.
Now, where did I put my spoon and bowel?
Daily Archives: December 8, 2014
Christmas Pud, it sure tastes good!
Christmas pud; it tastes so good,
These creatures – Christmas Giants – reside quiet and unseen, throughout the entire year, in people’s houses. They rest, slumber peacefully away in their places of concealment, until they are needed, when they are summoned, called by the old man himself, Father Christmas.
Nowadays, Christmas Giants are vital part of the yuletide effort, of getting the presents into children’s Christmas stockings, on Christmas Eve. What these Giants actually do is quite simple; they stretch all the way up the chimney, where Father Christmas is waiting patiently adjacent the chimney pot. Then, after the old man has given it the children’s presents, the Giant returns to ground level and places them in the children’s Christmas stockings, for him.
Yes, I know this has previously been done by Father Christmas. It’s just that, with modern building practices adopting ever thinner chimney flue designs, the old, and rather fat man, simply cannot get down them anymore. You see, the Giants, as well as being ever so tall, are incredibly thin. Passing up and down a chimney each Christmas Eve is child’s play for them. It’s a delightful task they volunteered for, when the old man began to get into difficulties with this new style of chimney design.
A note: If you happened to look for one of these creatures in your house, at a time other than Christmas, you might notice a large foot poking out from under your bed, or a long and incredibly thin finger half-hidden to the rear of a cupboard. Don’t be worried, it will not wake up, though, not until not until next Christmas Eve, that is.
On Christmas morn, before the dawn…
On Christmas morn, before the dawn,
We open our eyes to see,
If HE has been; we are so keen.
Will we be filled with glee?
We open the door, at half past four,
We must go have a peep.
What’s beneath the tree, for you and me?
So down the stairs we creep.
We make our way, and as we pray,
A vision of joy unfolds,
Cars and stars and rockets to mars,
A thousand dreams untold.
These are the dreams, the childhood scenes,
Repeated across the globe.
For one short night there is no fright,
It should always be just so.
Thank you so much, we love you such,
For giving us so much joy.
We will be good, we know we should.
Every girl and boy.
A brand-new Alice in Wonderland story.
A Real Christmas Tree
I think that I shall never be,
Sold on artificial trees.
A Christmas tree with plastic limbs
Just doesn’t stir me up to hymns.
A tree with needles made of foil,
From a factory instead of soil,
Although it will not burst nor shed,
It neither is alive nor dead.
Perennial, yes, it may rightly be,
And formed in perfect symmetry,
But only God can make a tree,
To suit old fashioned souls like me.
A Norway Spruce Christmas tree for me.
Possibly the best chldren’s stories in the world
Moreover, they are FREE!
Free eBooks – but only until Christmas!
Are you putting an angel atop your Christmas tree this year?
When four of Santa’s elves got sick, the trainee elves did not produce toys as fast as the regular ones,
Santa began to feel the Pre-Christmas pressure building up. Then, Mrs Claus told Santa her Mother was coming to visit. This news stressed him even more. When he went to harness the reindeer, he found that three of them were about to give birth and two others had jumped the fence and were nowhere to be seen.
When Santa began to load the sleigh, one of the floorboards cracked and the bag full of toys fell to the ground, scattering them far and wide. Frustrated, Santa went in the house for a cup of apple cider and a shot of rum. When he went to the cupboard, he discovered the elves had drank all the cider and hidden the liquor.
In his frustration, he accidentally dropped the cider jug, and it broke into hundreds of little glass pieces all over the kitchen floor. He went to get the broom and found the mice had eaten all the straw off the end of the broom.
Just then the doorbell rang, and irritated Santa marched to the door, yanked it open, and there stood a little angel
with a great big Christmas tree. The angel said very cheerfully, ‘Merry Christmas, Santa. Isn’t this a lovely day?
I have a beautiful tree for you. Where would you like me to stick it?’
And so began the tradition of the little angel on top of the Christmas tree.