Now that November is upon us, it has felt like the time to finally put last year’s Christmas decorations away.

You laugh, but since January they have been piled up in the spare room (or den/bar) rather than being consigned to the attic for the milder months, as they usually would have been.

This has, naturally, mostly been down to laziness. At least 85 per cent laziness, anyway. Other factors have played a part - my paralysing fear of heights and step ladders coupled with my father’s almost literally paralysing spine fracture having influenced the lack-thereof proceedings.

But, truth be told, once the 2024 deccies were out of sight, they were also out of mind, and have made a comfortable home this year in the ‘dump room’ (we’ve all got one).

Realising this with a giggle, Pop and I thought it might be time to get the abode straight, and exorcise some of its various storage areas so that, come the aftermath of this Christmas, they can be populated with a brand new array of detritus.

And with this, the Old Man has unearthed a few truly spectacular gems.

Like Howard Carter cracking through the door of King........

© Shropshire Star