Natasha Oakley - British Romance Author

Writer of tug-at-the-heartstrings, feel-good romance for Harlequin Mills & Boon

Saturday, December 22, 2007

Twelve Days of Christmas Letters

Okay - well I'm blogging everywhere. Trish's new internet cable hasn't arrived yet which means I'm still minding her blog. Oh the responsibility!! And the temptation!!!!!!!!

But, today I'm feeling festive and I've decided to be kind. Go see the 'Twelve Days of Christmas' I found on You Tube. Here's a written down version. Different, but it still makes me smile.

December 25th

Dearest John,

I went to the door today and the postman delivered a partridge in a pear tree. What a delightful gift. I couldn't have been more surprised.

With dearest love and affection,

December 26th

Dearest John,

Today the postman brought your very sweet gift. Just imagine, two turtledoves. I’m just delighted at your very thoughtful gift. They are just adorable.

All my love,

December 27th

Dear John,

Oh, aren't you the extravagant one! Now I must protest. I don't deserve such generosity. Three French hens. They are just darling, but no more. I must insist.... you're just too kind.


December 28th

Dear John,

Today the postman delivered four calling birds. Now really! They're beautiful, but don't you think enough is enough? You’re being too romantic.


December 29th

Dearest John,

What a surprise! Today the postman delivered five golden rings. One for each finger. You're just impossible, but I love it. Frankly, John, all those squawking birds were beginning to get on my nerves.

All my love,

December 30th

Dear John,

When I opened the door there were actually six geese a-laying on my front steps. So you're back to the birds again, huh? Those geese are huge. Where will I ever keep them? The neighbors are complaining and I can't sleep through the racket. PLEASE STOP!


December 31st


What's with you and those birds? Seven swans a-swimming. What kind of joke is this? There's bird poo all over the house and they never stop the racket. I'm a nervous wreck and I can't sleep at night. IT'S NOT FUNNY. So stop with the birds.


January 1st

OK Buster,

I think I prefer the birds. What the hell am I going to do with eight maids a-milking? They've even brought their own cows. Now there is cow poop all over the lawn and I can’t move in my own house. Just lay off me. SMART-ASS!


January 2nd


What are you? Some kind of sadist? Now there's nine pipers piping. And man do they pipe. They haven't stopped chasing those maids since they got here yesterday morning. The cows are upset and are stepping all over those screeching birds. No wonder they screech. What am I going to do? The neighbours have started a petition to evict me.


January 3rd


Now there are ten ladies dancing. I don't know why I call those women ladies. They've been with those nine pipers all night long. Now the cows can't sleep and they've got diarrhea. My living room is a river of cow dung. The commissioner of buildings has subpoenaed me to give cause why the building shouldn't be condemned. I've called the police. They know where you are.

One who means it,

January 4th


What's with the eleven lords a-leaping on those maids and aforementioned "ladies"? Some of those girls will never walk again.

Those pipers ran through the maids and are now after the cows. All 234 of the birds are dead. They have been trampled to death in the orgy. I hope you're satisfied!

Your sworn enemy,
Miss Agnes McCallister

January 5th

From the law offices of Dewey, Cheatem and Howe

This is to acknowledge your latest gift of twelve drummers drumming, which you have seen fit to inflict on our client, Miss Agnes McCallister. The destruction, of course, was total. All correspondence should come to our attention. If you should attempt to reach Miss McCallister at Happy-Dale Sanitarium, the attendants have instructions to shoot you on sight. With this letter, please find attached a warrant for your arrest.

Dewey, Cheatem and Howe
Attorneys at Law

Be warned! Sometimes romance is best in small doses.

And now I'm off to a Christmas Drinks Party. Most years I have to run the gaunlet of men who sneer at romance generally and women who feel they should. Oh well! I shall search out the kindred spirits - oh and maybe take a copy of my tax return. That usually silences most people! Solvent authors are a rare breed.



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