A Free Tree -

Well that was a lovely evening walk, Monty.
You seemed to enjoy it.

So shall I go back out and nab it for us before it goes?
Yes, I think I should. But I’ll put you inside while I pop back out.

Harriet and Monty Dog are outside the workshop under the floodlight. Monty is on his red lead and Harriet is wearing a big black hooded coat. — Brrr, it was cold tonight!

It’s amazing what people will fly tip for Christmas!

Harriet is walking back out of the driveway in the dark. She is seen from behind wearing her big hooded coat. — And back out again.

I reckon whoever it was must have peaked a bit too soon and had to replace it already.

Harriet is coming back into the driveway carrying a potted Christmas tree. — Ugh, smells a bit!

I’ll put it there. Best left outside as Monty will only want to wee on it.
It’s a bit rough but should do for us, free and clears a bit of fly tipping.

Harriet is under the floodlight outside the workshop door. She has put the Christmas tree in the corner by the door. The tree is small and scrawny, and in a black pot. — That’ll do there.

All done, Monty, we have a Christmas tree! Coat off and time for a cuppa.

Harriet is back in the workshop. She has taken her coat off and is carrying it draped over her arm. — Tea, Monty? Mon-Tea! Hehe.

Well, last night I was thinking about the tree so Monty and I went out to decorate it.

Oh heck! What on Earth has happened!!!

Harriet and Monty Dog are outside the workshop looking upwards. There is a giant twinkling Christmas tree reaching way up into the sky. — Oh. My. Word!

Thankfully it turned out to be a silly dream and Monty and I could just hang the decorations on without a ladder, or scaffolding, or a fairy tale beanstalk!

Maybe lockdown Christmas is getting to me.

Harriet and Monty Dog are outside the workshop admiring their normal sized Christmas tree with its baubles on, and a star on the top. — Phew, that is less scary.

“Oh hello again. Ahh, the recycling box. I’ll bring it out.”

“Hiya, thank you. Your tree looks lovely. Was that…”

“Dumped? Yes, we grabbed it after walk the other day. Can’t have fly tipping can we?”

“Well done. Speaking of dog walks…”

“Oh, ignore him. No manners that dog!”

The recycling collector is carrying the recycling box and admiring Harriet’s tree. Harriet is standing in the workshop doorway and Monty is having a poo on the grass. — Well, hello….

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