The Scrooge who found salvation in a fold-up tree.

 The fallout from my bedtime visit from a mouse continues. After the little fecker scurried out from under the pillow beside me (yes, under the pillow), I set traps all over the house and even ventured into the attic. The evidence was… overwhelming. Let’s just say the droppings alone suggested they’d been hosting festivals up there.

Day one: four mice down.
Days two to seven: traps untouched. No sightings. No rustlings. Bliss.

But then reality hit:
My Christmas tree and decorations are in the attic. Absolutely no way was I reaching my hand into a box that could contain a rodent maternity ward. So I made the only logical decision: No decorations this year. It didn’t take much debating — I’m in The Helix for The Snow Queen panto for most of Christmas anyway, practically living inside a Winter Wonderland. And to be honest, I’ve never minded putting decorations up… it’s the putting them away that sucks the will to live out of me.

But after a week, I started to feel a bit… bleak. Was I really turning into a full-on Scrooge?

Then fate — or Aldi’s middle aisle — intervened.

First, a lone green Santa among dozens of red ones. He practically begged to come home with me. (As a history teacher at heart, I must note: Santa was originally green until Coca-Cola staged a colour-takeover. So really, I was taking a stand.)

Then a little reindeer with pleading eyes hopped into the trolley. My sitting room was beginning to look marginally less like a crime scene and more like Christmas… but something was still missing.

A tree.
But buying a new one? No energy. No time. No desire to start collecting baubles from scratch.

Then today, with only a morning panto show, I popped into Mullingar Pewter for lunch — and there it was:
A fold-up Christmas tree.

A magical, ridiculous, gold, sparkly wonder that looks like nothing when folded, but blossoms into bijou festive fabulousness when opened. No decorations needed.

My camera is failing to capture its golden outlines!

The cherry on top? The angel and pink elf from last year — the two items I accidentally left out of the attic mouse zone — now proudly crown my minimalist masterpiece.

Some of you will be horrified.
But me? I’m delighted.

A festive home, zero rodents, and absolutely no tinsel-induced existential crisis.

Happy Christmas to one and all — from me, Santa-in-green, and the sparkliest fold-up tree this side of the Shannon.