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Piny Tim: Bare (Third in the London Christmas Series)

With the holidays at an end, the time finally came for our beloved wee Christmas tree, Twiglet Piny Tim McNeedles, to find a permanent abode.  So, with heavy hearts, we stripped him of his glittering finery and bagged him up for removal to the house of my good friend and fellow Wapping blogger Paul (found over at Pootling Around…).

Piny Tim's glory days.

Piny Tim’s glory days.

When Paul and his wife Hannah came round for some festive treats on Christmas Eve I dragooned them into offering a home for Piny Tim when the time came, as they have a small garden.  I made it sound as though it were an optional request, but I think we all know the truth.  When I texted a few days later to confirm that they were still happy to take in our little festive laddie, their reply questions were along the lines of, “Are you expecting visiting rights?” and “What happens when we kill him?  …IF.  We mean IF.”  Despite the exacting requirements of my housemate and me, they still agreed to welcome him in, and they didn’t even baulk when we told them that as we were packing Piny Tim up we found a worm in the saucer under his pot and we stuck the worm back in the pot.  (Don’t judge us.  We only had the heart to rehome one tiny creature at a time.)

We’re very grateful that Piny Tim went on to a good home.  After all, as my housemate said in his typical exasperated manner when I brought Piny Tim home, “A Christmas tree’s not just for Christmas, Cait! They grow up, and then what do you do with them?”

Saddle unsuspecting friends with their care and upkeep, that’s what.

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