Dear James & Family
The elves and I have been busy preparing for the Christmas fest. Since yours is a particularly large order we have scheduled it for an early, and dare I say conventional delivery via Royal Mail. As usual I am unable to provided you with a return address in case of damaged goods. Simply address any correspondence to Santa at The North Pole, and provided the Royal mail personnel are suitably “tanked up” your letter will be answered.
The impish child urinated on me last night and the night before she pooed in the bath. I physically had to scoop the poo out with my own hands. This was no computer simulation! Her actions are probably due to the fact that I’m far too happy and need to be taken down a peg or two in terms of emotional stability. Last night I had a dream that I had been locked in a sanatorium for 10 years which had burned down. I was a ghost who tried to escape the sanatorium and achieve human form by drinking the essence of pig. This madness went on throughout the night, until daylight arrived to save me. Any clues/comments?
Last week the trees came and went, past the window. I had to venture out into the storm to trim the branches on the car.