So.

Here we are.

Christmas Day.

And yet more of the wet stuff will fall on us today I hear (although Boxing day looks far worse at present).

I "grew out" of Christmas pretty quickly but I am very much looking forward to making this time of year as magical and special for my newborn son as I can remember it used to be for me before I turned 8 or 9.

Christmas for me (in the very early years) meant saving my pocket money for a month or so and buying the whole (large) family a half pound of humbugs from the local sweet shop. (I didn't know what "Bah humbug!" was in those days and thought that was quite a nice present to give my sisters and parents).

Christmas also meant snow was on its way in my childhood. It rarely snowed before Christmas but often did in January or February which was always a LOT of fun. I'd always be up first (I still am.... why do you think I am writing this at 6 in the morning?) to check for fox footprints in the garden...

Now of course, snow is just a pain in the backside to me, but once again, I do remember how incredible it all looked to me as a child - and fully intend to give my son that same feeling should it snow in the next few years.

Of course, this year there's no snow yet or any real chance of frosts - all we've had is seemingly incessant rain and temperatures in the teens.

The water butts are all overflowing, the garden path is submerged in parts, the lawn is a squelchy clay bog will pools of standing water liberally dotted over its surface, the fence has been a shade darker for weeks it seems and the sun hasn't made more than a feeble appearance just before it disappears below the horizon for what feels like an eternity.

"The drought"

Compared to other parts of the country though, we've got it easy. I drove through atrocious M4 spray in the dark t'other day to pick my sister and American family up from Heathrow and it was not a pleasant experience. I then dropped them off in the western Cotswolds (very close to Tewkesbury) and deadly standing water puddles were all over the country lanes. In fact at the start of our journey, Reading services had been closed because of rising flood waters.

The south west has been hardest hit again with severe flood warnings and evacuations taking place, though there have been hundreds of flood warnings all over the country and this doesn't look like ending soon.

So no.... it doesn't feel very Christmassy. Not to me.

But Christmas it is and I will shortly take a drive 'round the countryside near us to try and find a sprig of holly with berries on it (that the thrushes and waxwings haven't got to first) for the Christmas pud (my favourite part of the Christmas meal.... Sure.... turkey is fine and inoffensive.... but it isn't exactly going to set your tastebuds on fire is it?!)

The presents are ready to open under the tree. (We have millions of presents this year thanks to Ben's arrival at the beginning of the month now combining with my wife's birthday on Boxing Day as well as her father's birthday today).

The tree is bedecked with sparkly white lights, silver tinsel and a gibbon hangs from the top (closest thing we have to a fairy in the house... much better than a fairy I think).

The cats have got their turkey treats for lunch time and the hens have got their corn Christmas lunch coming too.

The bird (the turkey that is, not a hen) will go in the oven at 7am and we will eat as the Queen's pre-recorded festive message is played to her *cough* grateful subjects I expect.

I guess I'm patriotic at sporting occasions (although I was brought up to support Scotland at rugby and rugby football) but I've never been a monarchist.

Whilst I appreciate that the Queen (in particular) and some of her family do bring a vast amount of money into the economy through tourism and retail (Prince Edward mans the tills at "Pound Land" Reigate these days don't you know), the idea of bowing to anyone (other than your judo opponent), let alone someone born into their "lofty position", seems absolutely bizarre to me; bizarre and archaic.

Its traditional (the monarchy) of course and I guess I should appreciate that, having had a few conservative tendencies before this current government drained me of most of them; but bear-baiting and witch-hunting is traditional also and I, personally, could well do without the royal family.

I certainly have no need to hear about the Queen's horrible anus (or whatever she wants to burble at us this year).

I'll nip outside in the rain during "the speech" to ensure the all the birds are fed in the garden (especially the jay) and give the girls (hens) their Christmas meal and tell them they're safe from the kitchen table so there's no need to worry.

They (the hens) won't understand of course, but it's the thought that counts after all.

SOoooo...

Have a merry Christmas with whoever you're spending Christmas with and stay as safe and dry (ha!) as you can in these floods.

TBR.