Is this how it all ends? In the turbulent breath of rain-drenched, demented ogres huff-stomping down the mountain, whirling random white whispy clouds and David Guetta laser-lights against the granite sky? They’re here, outside my house, clanging my shutters with their enormous hands, shoulder-banging my front door. Now they’re whooshing down the chimney like evil, very overdue Santas, and they’re absolutely furious about being trapped behind the glass fireguard.

No little pigs here, I promise…

And dudes! All I wanted for Christmas was a little lightness of being, and I’m not even talking metaphorically, if you know what I’m saying. Although a little more of the metaphoric stuff might be nice, too. Does it come in purple?

Oh, they’ve gone.

I’ll try my luck with the Easter Bunny.

Meanwhile, spare a thought for the horrified sparrows huddling inside their feeder, watching their birdseed vamoosooooosssshhh…

Anyone fancy another nap?

Come on then…