Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.
Extract from Twas the night before Christmas by Clement Clarke Moore (1779-1863)
We read this poem every Christmas eve when the children were small. While others were busy doing last Christmas shopping we spent the morning on the beach searching for cockles.
Although it was windy the sun was shining and there was no one else in around apart from a lone fisherman.
So everything is ready for Christmas, presents wrapped and under the tree food all bought and everyone home.