Me: I love the lead-up to Christmas. It’s such a magical time.
Nell: Talking of time, did you FaceTime with the family?
Me: Yes, the children are so excited about their visit to England.
Nell: I expect Chris is rather sad not to be coming over, too.
Me: He is.
Nell: David has fallen in love with the Christmas Tree.
Me: Bless him. He spent hours just gazing at it yesterday evening.
Nell: It’s a tree.
Me: It’s a beautiful tree.
Nell: Nevertheless.
Me: And it’s called Julian.
Nell: I beg your pardon?
Me: I always name our trees.
Nell: Good grief.
Me: I felt like it was called Julian when I saw it.
Nell: I worry about you sometimes.
Me: And Jul means Christmas in Norwegian.
Nell: Julian isn’t Norwegian.
Me: He might be at heart, even though he was grown locally.
Nell: I was talking about the name. I’m not going to start pondering a tree’s nationality.
Me: Anyway, the grandchildren are going to love him,
Nell: Just like David.
Me: Is he still gazing at Julian?
Nell: Yes. I thought he would be less interested when it was lighter but he seems mesmerised.
Me: I hope there isn’t a squirrel in there.
Nell: What are you talking about?
Me: It’s possible.
Nell: No, it isn’t. No sensible squirrel would ever choose to come into a house with three Labradors, two bears, a flamingo and an octopus.
Me: Four Labradors at the weekends and squirrels aren’t sensible.
Nell: Cyril was.
Me: Cyril the Squirrel?
Nell: Yes. He did our books for a while.
Me: What books?
Nell: He managed our finances.
Me: You’re telling me our accountant was a squirrel called Cyril?
Nell: You just told me we have a Christmas Tree called Julian.
Me: That’s true. Sorry.
