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Monthly Archives: December 2016

We wish you a Merry Christmas

We wish you a Merry Christmas
We wish you a Merry Christmas
We wish you a Merry Christmas
And a Happy New Year

Good tidings we bring
To you and your kin
We wish you a Merry Christmas
And a Happy New Year

Now bring us some figgy pudding
Now bring us some figgy pudding
Now bring us some figgy pudding
And a cup of good cheer

We won’t go until we get some
We won’t go until we get some
We won’t go until we get some
So bring it right here

So bring us some figgy pudding
So bring us some figgy pudding
So bring us some figgy pudding
And bring it right here

Good tidings we bring
To you and your kin
We wish you a Merry Christmas
And a Happy New Year

I am not Roald Dahl

 

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FEXIT

Finglas wants to leave the EU

They call it FEXIT

fexit

 
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Posted by on December 22, 2016 in EU

 

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Dear Megan O’keeffe

From Father Christmas’ Workshop, The North Pole

megan-okeeffe

Dear Megan,

Ho ho ho, it’s almost Christmas. Thank you so much for the letter you sent to me. I have read it from beginning to end and will do all that I can to give you the presents you would like to receive. Moreover, why shouldn’t I because you have been a really good child the entire year! Although it’s not looking at all like you are going to get a white Christmas over there in Ireland it will surely be a white Christmas here at the top of the world. Truthfully, it’s white here every day of the year! Yes, I know that some people and children alike think I live in Lapland, but in all honesty that is only a base, one of many I use to get the children’s presents to them on time each Christmas Eve.

Well, Megan, I had better sign off for now as I still have a lot to do before I set off this coming Christmas Eve.

From,

Santa, Father Christmas, for sure.

PS My favourite tipple and treat is mince pie and a glass of brandy.

 
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Posted by on December 21, 2016 in A Christmas message

 

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Dear Molly O’keeffe

From Father Christmas’ Workshop, The North Pole

molly o'keeffe

Dear Molly,

Well here I am again, another year older, writing to you before I set off on yet another journey of wonderment this coming Christmas Eve. Are you still there? For in all honestly your letter is very late getting to me this year! A little bird told me – or was it one of my reindeer? – that you would like some surprise presents this year. I hope that is true for I have one or two really nice ones ready to go into my sack before I set off for Ireland on Christmas Eve.

Don’t forget to have all of your Christmas decorations up with the lights on your Christmas tree shining brightly, as a beacon to my reindeer, to help them spot your house on the ever so dark night before Christmas. I had better go now as one of my elves has a tooth aches, that he wants me to help him with, pulling it out.

From,

Santa, Father Christmas, for sure

 
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Posted by on December 21, 2016 in A Christmas message

 

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BREXIT – A Song of Joy – Freedom from the EU

♫ Come, sing a song of joy
For freedom from the EU
Sing, sing a song of joy
For discharge from its madness
The day will dawn for us all
Standing firm and tall
We will break free
All men will stand along
Each other in their glory
Reach out, rejoice and be glad
For freedom that endures
Forever more
Then sing a song of joy
For freedom from the EU
Come, sing a song of joy
Of freedom, tell the story
Sing, sing a song of joy
For people in their glory
One mighty voice that will bring
A sound that will ring
Forever more
Then sing a song of joy
For freedom from the EU. ♫

 
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Posted by on December 19, 2016 in BREXIT, EU, free, freedom

 

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Twas the night before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

“Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of Toys, and St Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.

His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”

screensaver

 

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At Christmas Everyone Loves a Sprout

At Christmas Everyone Loves a Sprout

 

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