Country Living with Francis Farragher

It’s probably a bit late in life for me to start admitting to crimes of thievery, but hopefully, the Statute of Limitations and a lack of evidence about my crimes before I had even reached the age of reason, will save me from any prosecutions.

To make matters worse, those acts were committed with the consent of parents who were renowned for their honesty and nature, but when it came to the week before Christmas, the younger members of the family were invariably given the task of ‘getting the Tree’.

The era was the mid to late-60s, and the chances of having a car and trailer available to drive to the nearest town and make a purchase were nil . . . but ‘the wood’ wasn’t far away and it contained a great selection of leafy firs.

It had been known as Blake’s Wood, on the edge of the local landlord’s estate, before being taken over by ‘the forestry’, who were reputed to have people on patrol in the pre-Christmas period with the task of preventing tree larcenies.

Money wasn’t our motivation . . . but the lack of it was, in terms of our parents even contemplating dedicating a modest budget for the purchase of a bit of Christmas greenery.

We weren’t alone in our mission as neighbouring families also tasked ‘the younger lads’ to embark on the tree acquisition, which often evolved into a two-night job. It mightn’t have been a job for men, but it was strictly ‘boys only’, with not a girl in sight.

Cars were scarce on the road at the time and we assumed – correctly as it turned out – that the ‘the forestry man’ wouldn’t go to the bother of hiding himself in the wood for hours on end to entrap any young thieves.

If we were environmentally aware at the time – or had a long ladder – then only the top of the fir would have to be severed, but with scarce resources and poor transport available, the tree had to be felled close to the butt.

That was always part one of the first night’s work, with the next cut involving the beheading of the tree in order to get a piece of greenery that was small enough to be transportable, and yet big enough to sit majestically inside the landing window, for all passersby to graciously admire.

The teeth on the bow saw weren’t always at their sharpest either, which led to a rotation of cutters; while there was the risk of the half-cut tree slipping a bit and jamming the blade.

Pictured: “If you go down to the woods today [tonight], you’re in for a . . .”