Twelve Days of Christmas

I often like to ponder on where things originated from and, not only that but,'¦.why.

Sunday, 21st December 2008, 2:47 pm
Updated Thursday, 7th June 2018, 8:15 pm

What I got to thinking of this week was the song, 'The Twelve Days of Christmas.'

Now, usually, whenever I write anything, I would do what all good reporter type folk should do, and that is to do some research, but this week, as it's nearly the end of the year and all, I decided to merely speculate as a regular person, resting assured that, regardless of what I think, someone out there is bound to put me right.

For example, is it technically a song, or is it simply a rhyme, or indeed a Christmas Carol?

And here's the thing'¦was the writer of this tune someone who was actually really cheesed off with their 'true ;ove', and the song was not so much, 'ah isn't he/she lovely for giving me all this?', but more a case of being laced with a touch of sarcasm as in reality they thought, 'what a load of old rubbish '“ this just goes to show that they don't really know me at all!'

I mean, I realise the tune dates back to olden days and all, but with the exception of the five gold rings, and the livestock - which would have undoubtedly made a few good dinners - and I know values have changed, but really, ten lords a leaping?

What would they be good for once the novelty had worn off?

And eight maids a milking? Supposing you didn't have any cows?

So, was it then perhaps a forerunner of someone expressing pain about Christmas gifts that they didn't really want, or need?

It's not like they could have boxed up six geese a laying in their original wrapping and returned them on Boxing day for a full refund is it?

On the other hand maybe the writer was just stressed, and as each day of the festive season went by, having been given some pretty useless gifts from their other halves, the pressure of Christmas simply got too much, and maybe they felt some kind of cathartic release by repeatedly scribbling down their lot day after day.

Sort of a, 'to do or deal with' list, that got longer every day.

Anyway, with that thought in mind I considered re-writing the words, based on things that sum up much of my own, 'to deal with' list, or things I have written about in my columns this year. Sort of an end of year review, a bit like a John Craven's Newsround, minus the curly hair and woolly jumper.

Merry Christmas.

ON the first day of Christmas the Council gave to me, a 35 pound fine, 'cause parking in Hastings ain't free.

On the second day of Christmas a ten ton truck gave to me, two smashed rear lights, and a 35 pound fine, 'cause parking in Hastings ain't free.

On the third day of Christmas the IRS gave to me, three tax return warnings, two smashed rear lights, and a 35 pound fine, 'cause parking in Hastings ain't free

On the fourth day of Christmas my electric bill gave to me, four minor seizures, three tax return warnings, two smashed rear lights, and a 35 pound fine, 'cause parking in Hastings ain't free.

On the fifth day of Christmas a road-rage woman said to me, five'¦ bad'¦. things, four minor seizures, three tax return warnings, two smashed rear lights, and a 35 pound fine, 'cause parking in Hastings ain't free.

On the sixth day of Christmas an early wake-up call gave to me, six seagulls squawking, five'¦bad'¦things, four minor seizures, three tax return warnings, two smashed rear lights, and a 35 pound fine, 'cause parking in Hastings ain't free.

On the seventh day of Christmas my Grandma gave to me, seven knitted scarves, six seagulls squawking, five'¦bad'¦things, four minor seizures, three tax return warnings, two smashed rear lights, and a 35 pound fine, 'cause parking in Hastings ain't free.

On the eighth day of Christmas TV licensing gave to me, eight threatening letters, seven knitted scarves, six seagulls squawking, five'¦bad'¦things, four minor seizures, three tax return warnings, two smashed rear lights, and a 35 pound fine, 'cause parking in Hastings 'ain't free.

On the ninth day of Christmas the leftovers gave to me, nine turkey/pickle sandwiches, eight threatening letters, seven knitted scarves, six seagulls squawking, five'¦bad'¦things, four minor seizures, three tax return warnings, two smashed rear lights, and a 35 pound fine, 'cause parking in Hastings ain't free.

On the tenth day of Christmas my aunty gave to me, ten pairs of pop socks, nine turkey/pickle sandwiches, eight threatening letters, seven knitted scarves, six seagulls squawking, five'¦bad'¦things, four minor seizures, three tax return warnings, two smashed rear lights, and a 35 pound fine, 'cause parking in Hastings ain't free.

On the eleventh day of Christmas my neighbour's dog gave to me, eleven piles of do-do, ten pairs of pop socks, nine turkey/pickle sandwiches, eight threatening letters, seven knitted scarves, six seagulls squawking, five'¦bad'¦things, four minor seizures, three tax return warnings, two smashed rear lights, and a 35 pound fine 'cause parking in Hastings ain't free.

On the twelfth day of Christmas, the economic climate gave to me, twelve cancelled credit cards, eleven piles of do-do, ten pairs of pop socks, nine turkey/pickle sandwiches, eight threatening letters, seven knitted scarves, six seagulls squawking, five'¦bad'¦things, four minor seizures, three tax return warnings, two smashed rear lights, and a 35 pound fine, 'cause parking in Hastings ain't free.