99 YEARS OLD AND STILL WRITING HOMELY HOMILIES...

AROUND this time of year, we traditionally enjoy a reading of Clement Clarke Moore’s poem A Visit From St Nicholas, starting “Twas the night before Christmas,” but the night before Christmas was the day before yesterday, which was Saturday and therefore Beach comberless. So today, I am bringing you instead the sequel: The Night After Christmas. Twas the night after Christmas when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, except for a mouse.

“Yippee!” squeaked the mousey, “this really is great.

They’ve not tidied up and it’s all in a state.

There’s food on the table and crumbs on the floor,

And Christmas gift wrapping from here to the door.

(I like all the gaudily coloured stuff best,

I’ll carry it back in my mouth to my nest.)

But first there’s a mountain of stuff to peruse,

From scraps of roast turkey to pudding and booze,

And sprouts, roast potatoes, roast parsnips and peas,

And even a half-eaten portion of cheese,

And cream-covered pies made of berries or mince.

Or fruit quite exotic, like guava or quince.

I’ll lick at their biscuits with chocolate toppings,

Then leave as my calling card piles of droppings.

But wait! I’ve seen something to ruin my mood,

Before I have even begun on the food. It smells like... oh no... it’s too foul to be true:

This blob on the carpet is reindeer poo!

It’s clear – though I find it a strain to believe –

They’ve not cleared it up after yesterday eve.”

The mouse clutched its stomach and ran to its nest,

And that was the last that we saw of that pest.

The moral of this unhygienic sad fable Is clear up your carpets and diningroom table

Before you start cooking and after the feast;

Don’t let mouse or reindeer or some other beast

Come in down the chimney or out of its hole

To spread foul disease on its night-time patrol.

Some post-prandial minutes spent clearing this squalor

Will stop mice or reindeer arousing your choler.

Collect up the gift-wrap and throw it away,

Save food in the freezer for some other day.

It’s tempting I know to leave such things undone,

When prostrate from food and the Christmas-time fun,

But if you can’t stir yourself, heed this advice:

Fresh reindeer poo’s great for deterring the mice.