See you on the other side – mine’s the one shaped like a Minotaur

Go on then. What did you get for Christmas? Ooh, lovely!

Here in Woods Towers, my husband had clearly read last week’s column, in which I shoutily demanded a gift that wasn’t rectangular.

And so on Dec 25 I crept downstairs to find a minotaur’s head under the tree.

At least that was what I inferred from the bulk and the long menacing horns.

There also appeared to be triangular stegosaurus plates running its length. I was pretty certain it was a grisly example of Victorian taxidermy, where entirely different species would be conflated to delight and baffle in equal measure. In fact, its irregularity was so mesmerising, I could barely bring myself to open the thing, but eventually my husband made me.

The minotaur horns turned out to be an open pair of rusty gardening shears. The thyreophoran dinosaur spikes were made from stout cardboard. The bulk comprised rolls of newspaper.

And there, nestling at the heart of this monstrosity was… a slim rectangular box.

I laughed until my eyes misted over; sometimes the thought really is what counts. Although having said that, a sleek new igadget is not to be sniffed at either. My gift to him came in a large box, big enough

to carry something he’s longed for since I’ve known him.

No, not a scold’s bridle to cure me of my fishwife nagging: a massive machine to slice Parma ham.

No, me neither, but, hey, he seemed pleased.

So, that was Christmas. Now, having argued about when to put up the tree – me sooner, him later – we are bickering about when to take it down.

He’s a staunch 12th-nighter; I’d have got rid of it on Boxing Day if it weren’t for the fact Cornelius, our family chameleon, has all but taken up residence in the branches.

So I’ll wait until they (Cornelius and husband) are asleep and do it then. I need the space, you see, for our fabulous Hogmanay party. It’s a highlight for friends and neighbours who hate New Year’s Eve. This is why it kicks off at 6pm; everybody will have long gone by midnight.

And if they’re in any doubt about the length of their welcome, at 10pm I turn the clocks forward to midnight. Kiss-kiss, hug-hug, Auld Lang

Syne, here’s your coat, bye! See you all on the other side.