Twelve Days of Thank You Letters

…A Partridge in a Pear Tree

Dear Darling My True Love,

Thank you so much for the partridge in a pear tree. I never say no to more fruit trees and the partridge will be a fun addition to the garden too.

Love you for always and forever.
 

…Two Turtle Doves and a Partridge in a Pear Tree

Dear Darling My True Love,

Thank you for the pair of turtle doves and the extra pear tree/partridge combo! The doves have already made a nest in the leylandii and I’ll watch them throughout the year and think of you. Love you.
 

…Three French Hens, Two Turtle Doves and…

Dear My True Love,

Thanks for the French hens, the turtle doves and the third pear tree/partridge combo. Can’t wait to eat some homegrown eggs alongside my potentially bounteous pear harvest! I’ll make you the most delicious breakfast, my darling.
 

…Four Calling Birds, Three…

Dear My True Love,

Calling Birds! You remembered how I told you about waking up to bird song in the morning! Oh how sweet of you! xx
 

…FIVE GOLD RINGS, Four…

Dear My True Love,

Five gold rings – now you really are spoiling me! Love you! For this, I’ll make you an omelette – there wouldn’t be any shortage of eggs now the coop is full of hens.
 

…Six Geese a-Laying, Five…

Dear My True Love,

How kind of you think of providing a little variety: now in addition to my nine – no twelve – French hens laying eggs, I’ll have geese eggs too! And five more gold rings – one for every finger – wonderful!
 

…Seven Swans a-Swimming, Six…

Dear My Love,

Swans! Oh you are a creative giftgiver! My pond isn’t very big but they’ll look beautiful it, one at a time. I do hope they won’t fight with the dozen geese milling around the lawn – they can break your arm, you know.

PS. I know I said I’d never say no to more fruit trees but the garden is getting pretty full now.
 

…Eight Maids a-Milking, Seven…

Dear My Love,

I’ll admit I was a little apprehensive when the doorbell rang today – the birds you’ve been sending have been getting larger and larger, I was worried you’d send an emu or eight of them! Ha ha ha!

The milk will be a welcome change from all the eggs. Oh, I don’t want to sound ungrateful but I’m eating eggs for every meal – what having 18 hens and 18 geese – and it would be nice to be able to shake it up a bit with custards and whatnot. (I think Nigel Slater has a recipe for pigeon quiche – I’m sure partridge or dove would work the same way.)

PS. Do I … do I own these women now? Are they slaves or do I have to pay them? Do you think they’ll accept eggs, pears or gold rings in payment?
 

…Nine Ladies Dancing, Eight…

Dear My Love,

More ladies! More birds! More rings! More pear trees. You don’t do Christmas by halves, do you?

I’d write more but it’s hard to hold a pen with all these rings on my fingers.
 

…Ten Lords a-Leaping, Nine…

Dear love,

Men this time. And more of all the rest. Gosh. I really don’t know what to say any more.

Yes, yes, I do: I’m going to be honest. You know when I said that I wanted something special for Christmas? I was thinking of an iPad, or that for you to book us on the cruise around the fjords that we saw advertised in the back of the magazine that comes with the newspaper – that’s why I told you, on several occasions, how many holiday days I had left to take before the end of March. I thought we could go away somewhere nice, somewhere a bit different, somewhere we could make Slartibartfast or dead parrot jokes and have some precious time together.

Now I’m going to have to spend those holiday days cleaning up bird poo. It’s *everywhere*. The chicken coop is filled up every morning and the geese, swans, partridges and doves shit everywhere. I tried to get some of the maids to help me with it but they refused, saying they’re only here to milk. I pointed out that there isn’t anything to milk – it’s not like I’ve got room for cows or goats (and if I did they’re wouldn’t be anything to eat, now the two dozen geese have stripped the lawn bare) – but they refused to budge, saying their job description just said “a-milking” and nothing about poo-shovelling. You haven’t so much got me a gift as bestowed upon me a begrudging, pedantic workforce.

The dancing ladies aren’t any help either. Yes, they look pretty doing their twirly but terraced houses weren’t built with ballrooms. There are eighteen of them now, doing endless waltzes and quadrilles in the hallway, or using the bannister as a ballet barre. It makes answering the door quite a chore – I’ve had more than one delivery man snap at me for taking too long and got called an “ungrateful bitch” when I replied that I wasn’t exactly in a rush to sign for 23 more sodding birds.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Perhaps that UPS guy was right, I should be thankful that you’ve gone to all this effort. I guess I’m just tetchy because I haven’t been sleeping that well recently. I keep waking in the night feeling like the down duvet you got me for my birthday is smothering me. And the songbirds make a terrible din outside my window from before dawn and that wakes up the swans, which wakes up the geese and so on.
 

…Eleven Pipers Piping, Ten …

Dear you.

Do you never want me to sleep again?

Pipers. Piping. PIPERS. PIPING.

I’ve already had the neighbours round complaining – they were just about coping with all the birds in the garden but they say the pipers are the last straw and they’re going to the council. Not just for a noise complaint but for overcrowding too. With this last bunch, there are 91 of us living in this two-bed through terrace. They would be eating me out of house and home if it wasn’t for all the eggs.

As if that wasn’t enough, one of the jumped up Lords knocked over a vase of flowers and one of the ladies slipped on the water while in the middle of a demi-plié. She’s suing now – not him, but me. Says I don’t provide a safe dancing environment. A court date has been set for February, bang in the middle of my work leave, when we could have been navigating the inlets around the Scandinavian coast.

Right now, I’m fuming. One fumer fuming.
 

…Twelve Drummers Drumming, Eleven Pipers Piping, Ten Lords a-Leaping, Nine Ladies Dancing, Eight Maids a-Milking, Seven Swans a-Swimming, Six Geese a-Laying, FIVE GOLD RINGS, Four Calling Birds, Three French Hens, Two Turtle Doves and a Partridge in a Pear Tree

Dear Sender