Day 7 - Story Advent Calendar.

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Advent Calendar 7th December.

Moany days of Christmas
Val Portelli.

Everyone knows Christmas is a time of peace and love. Well, perhaps Mrs Humbug is an exception.

‘A partridge? I’ve got fifteen people coming to Christmas lunch and you bring me a partridge? Are you totally mad? It’s just as well I’ve arranged a twenty-pound turkey, a joint of beef and something for the vegetarians.’

‘Two Turtle doves? Where do you think you’re going to keep them? Can you imagine the mess? There’ll be bird droppings everywhere. As if I haven’t got enough to do cleaning up every day.’

‘Three French Hens? I suppose they’ll be useful for the eggs, but you’ll have to build them a shed or something. I’m not having them wandering around ruining my roses.’

‘Are they supposed to be Colley birds? Blackbirds, that’s what they are; the first ones to start singing in the morning. What with them and the thrushes and the robins, waking me up singing their stupid heads off, it’s a wonder I ever manage to rest.’

‘Five Gold rings. That’s better. What do you mean I can only pick one of them?’

‘Six geese he brings me now. I suppose you’re thinking of digging up my lawn to build them a pond? If you’d given them to me on Christmas eve, I wouldn’t have wasted good money buying a turkey.’

‘Seven swans. Nasty creatures. You realise they belong to the Queen and if she finds out you’ll end up in the tower. Good riddance too.’
‘Eight maids a milking. Where are we going to put them all? Anyway, I get all the milk from the supermarket. It lasts much longer in cartons, and the maids aren’t much use without a cow, are they? And no, I don’t want one of those either.’

‘Nine ladies dancing. What kind of a house do you think this is? I’m not having females prancing around my living room and that’s an end to it.’

‘Ten Lords a leaping. They’re all as bad as each other, these politicians. Only interested in themselves. Not a thought for us poor, hard-working women, slaving day in, day out to try and pay the bills. I’d like to see them manage on what you give me for housekeeping.’

‘Eleven pipers piping. Good grief. Whatever next? It’s bad enough having to listen to bagpipes on New Year’s Eve. Never any peace in this house.’

‘What on earth is that din? Go and tell them to shut up, or I’ll report them to the council for noise pollution. George! Did you hear me George? Why are there thirteen of them? There should only be twelve.’

George hoped she’d be happy with the presents he had bought her, but he might have guessed she would find something to complain about. Ever since he was a child, he had always wanted to play the drums. Banging away happily as he followed the twelve drummers down the street, he was pleased with his present from Santa. Leaving Bah Humbug behind, he called out ‘Happy Christmasto the enthusiastic crowds cheering on the merry band.

***

Did you enjoy Val's take on the 12 days of Christmas? Read on to find out more about Val and where you can find her:

My bio
Val also writes under the pen name Voinks, and had her first book ‘Changes’ published when a freak accident left her bed bound and stir-crazy.
Having caught the authorish bug, she has since published others books, which you can find on her Amazon author pages:
www.amazon.co.uk/Val-Portelli/e/B01MVB8WNC


She lives in South East London along with two tigers, and a family of foxes who bang on the dog flap at 3 a.m. knowing she will still be up writing.
Perhaps she has vampire blood in her ancestry, or it might be because she was born at that hour, so finds it the most productive time to complete her masterpieces.

Every sale and review helps to buy food for the unicorns who have become her constant companions while she works on her longest book to date ‘Murder of Changes.’
Other shorter manuscripts are at various stages of completion, as soon as she can beat the procrastination fairies into submission.
She also writes a short story every week for her Facebook author page and blog which you can read here:


Happy Reading!

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