You see, this is the problem with real Christmas trees. We’ll recycle ours to be used on railway embankments to stop soil erosion, apparently. Still, just yesterday it stood in all its glory in our sitting room, adorned with glass baubles, ablaze with fairy lights (except the red ones) and now it’s chucked out into the garden waiting to be bundled unceremoniously into the car.
 
I always cry but I’m soppy like that. It’s the Circle of Life, isn’t it?

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