Here’s a question for you. What is Father Christmas‘ first name? Can’t believe I’m the first person to have asked this.
Now some of you will say hang on a minute Tref, it’s not even December yet and you’ve mentioned the C word. Well I am with you all the way and other than arranging things that have to be planned well in advance I don’t think about Christmas until December. This year is a little different in that I’m off to London on 27th Nov for the annual CCUK (ITSPA as was) Xmas lunch. They couldn’t get a venue in December, apaz. The significance of the lunch is that traditionally they held it the same day as trefbash as they knew there would be a load of people in town for that. I could never make the CCUK gig as I didn’t want to rock up for trefbash already three sheets to the wind.
Anyway, notwithstanding the above, the question remains. FC must have a first name. You’re not telling me his parents called him Father. How confusing would that have been. Unworkable.
I did once float the idea that if everyone had the same name you’d never have the problem of not remembering someone’s name when introducing someone to them. Simples really, and obvious. Of course there would be some debate about which name this would be: Dave, Andy, Bob etc, Methuselah even and I’d be making a case for Tref obvs but these are mere details. You have to think big picture. I didn’t do anything with that idea at the time and really I’ve moved on. It was using a sledgehammer to crack a nut. Actually more a thermonuclear weapon. This would have not only completely destroyed that nut, rendering it totally inedible, but probably vapourised the table on which the nut stood. The table in this case is our entire naming culture built up over thousands of years. It would be a lot easier to develop a memory technique for remembering names.
In Wales in the eighteenth century you come across some people with the family name Christmas, and some, the famous Welsh baptist preacher Christmas Evans for example. Whether Christmas was the first name or surname doesn’t really matter. If it was a surname the name probably stemmed from the days of the patronymic system and in this case might have been Reginald ap (son of) Christmas which at some stage would have become Reginald Christmas.
I’m not suggesting for one minute that Father Christmas is a Reginald and although you could probably get odds on it from a bookmaker it would likely be an outside chance. Who knows? Ordinarily I’d say don’t bet on it to win but where Father Christmas’ first name is concerned it is winner takes all. Even if he has multiple first names in the same way that mine is Huw Trefor. If there was money involved you’d need to have identified all first names.
Balls I’ve just blown it and googled for the answer. It’s Saint Nicholas. Saint Nicholas Christmas. Google said it so it must be so. Bit odd giving your kid the name Saint but there is no telling with people. At least the spelling is uncontroversial. Don’t suppose old SN was ever a naughty boy. Goes with the name territory innit. Oh he’s such a love. Keeps his room tidy and always offers to do the washing up.
All this points to a certain degree of abnormality where FC (SNC) is concerned but yanow, we already knew that. How otherwise could you get down so many chimneys, eat so many mince pie and drink so much brandy and still be a functioning sleigh driver and parcel deliverer. I really don’t know why he doesn’t subcontract the whole delivery activity to DPD. Don’t have to tell the kids. He could then stop in on Christmas Eve or nip to the pub early doors and get home in time to watch Eastenders at twenty to eight. You can bet your bottom dollar it will be a belter.
Right. Movin on. No fox news to report. No game activity whatsoever at the lake. No squirrels, hedgehogs, roaming herds of deer and no giraffes. Nowt, niet, zilcho.
THG is just off out for a run. Her 95th Park Run. I’m taking it easy and will treat meself to a sausage and a couple of bits of bacon with accompanying sides. Maybe even an egg. Seehowitgoze.
Tis a beeotiful morning for a run. Also a good time to get some leaves bagged up and ready for when the new compost bins are in place which won’t be until 2026. Today I will mostly be watching rugby. Shed door will be open if anyone wants to drop by. I have some beer but it took me almost three hours to drink two bottles last weekend. Worra lightweight.
And finally, had a good session with Claire the physio yesterday afternoon. Things are progressing well. Need to keep doing the same exercises for another couple of weeks and then move on to the new set she gave me. Same as last time really. Need also to step up the walking a bit (geddit). I mentioned that I stopped the physio sessions after four or five of them and didn’t need the total of nine that the insurance company was willing to stump up for. She said she saw some NHS referrals who got three sessions with her. Within the NHS it would have just been the one. Something wrong somewhere big time.
Gonna try supplementing paracetamol with ibuprofen to keep on top of the soreness. It isn’t unbearable by any means but I note that this is what I did at the same stage last time. My sleep was also crappy that time around and I listened to the shipping forecast a lot. I’m a bit bored with it now and have moved on to podcasts.