Christmas. Mum, sister and m'self would be making cooking while Dad, in the basement, got the tree fitted with a stand, evened up the bottom branches and settled it into the corner of the front room.

All was going according to tradition, until we heard angered stomping up the basement stairs, down the hall to the front room. Then a slamming noise, and the angry footfalls back to the basement.

We ventured into the front room and saw ... well - it was like a stubbly pole in a tree stand, with a little bottle-brush tuft of evergreen branch at the top.

Dad had kinda got carried away evening up branches, from the bottom up. We didn't laugh. It would not have been appreciated.

Within a very few minutes, we heard the stomping up the stairs again, angered entrance by Le Pere who grabbed the 'tree' by the throat and dragged it back to the basement.

Nothing for us to do but to go back to our baking.

Much to our surprise, in about an hour, footfall were heard coming up from the basement, into front room and return.

Into the front room we went to behold a perfectly symetrical tree. Gorgeous.

Dad had taken all the branches, drilled holes in the trunk where HE thought the beggars should go, and fitted them with epoxy glue.

We never spoke of it again. At least - not when Dad was in the room!

sian