How can it be December already? I only managed to get the last of the Christmas decorations back into the loft a few weeks ago and now we have to get them all out again!

It was lovely to see so many houses already lit up for the festive season as I drove out to a meeting on Monday evening even if the twinkling lights were getting a bit of a battering in rain and wind.

While its always wonderful to see everything beautifully decorated, it’s also a harsh reminder of our own inadequacies when it comes to bringing a touch of Christmas to our house as despite our best intentions the housemate and I are frankly abysmal at it.

The one time in the past decade our Christmas tree didn’t look as if an elf had thrown up on it, was when a talented friend popped round for a coffee and took pity on us and control of the baubles to complete the decorations perfectly.

“I don’t know why you find it so difficult,” she said, placing another bauble in exactly the right position as I worked to untangle the housemate from the string of lights she was attempting to hang in the window.

“I think part of the problem might be that herself always thinks it’s a nice idea to put on some Christmas carols and have a glass of sherry when we do the decorations,” said the housemate from somewhere beneath her twinkling shroud.

“The more lively the carols get, the more sherry we consume and by the time we’ve Decked the Halls for the fourth time the house looks like an explosion in a glitter factory!”

I don’t think it helps that like all bad workmen we do tend to blame our tools and work under the misguided impression that the reason for our bad decoration is always our bad decorations, which we regularly replace with some which show great promise in the shop, but sadly revert to kind when they get home.

The Mother and my sister on the other hand, decorate impeccably. My sister’s tree which gets bigger every year, never has a ribbon or a bauble out of place. Admittedly she now buys one large it can be seen from space, but no unsuspecting alien could fail to be impressed by its perfect dressing.

The Mother equally manages to get a beautiful looking tree - despite our input at our annual family decoration night.

Admittedly she only indulges us when it comes to the choice and decoration of the tree - the rest of the house she does in splendid isolation when we’ve all gone home.

“Just leave me to it and I’ll have it all done by the morning,” is her familiar refrain as she ushers us out of the door.

“I think she only lets us help so we’ll get all the boxes of decorations into position for her,” I muttered to my sister last year as she teetered atop a ladder to lower yet another container of garlands into my arms.

“You only help so you can sneak that ancient Father Christmas onto the tree without her noticing,” pointed out my sister.

“Don’t knock Santa - he was a present for my first Christmas - he might be a bit threadbare but who isn’t?” I replied.