Dear Santa,

I hope this letter finds you fit and ready for the long haul south. You’ll probably be using the reindeers Prancer, Dancer, Blitzen and Comet this year as we’re having very seasonal weather and snow is possible.

I’d say this is the last year that you’ll be coming down the chimney. Rumour has it that Minister Eamon Ryan has sent out a decree that all chimneys should be taxed to eliminate burning turf or firewood.

We’re still allowed to have turf but we’re not allowed to sell it - the same as sex then. Anyhow, they say that it’ll be €10,000 per chimney so if this comes to pass all chimneys will be knocked or blocked.

And mind yourself this year, Santa, when up on the roofs, as lots of them are now a real trip hazard because they’re covered in bl**dy solar panels.

And don’t be breaking them either. Yeah, I know there’s no heat out of them but the grant was a great help to buy coal. And don’t be charging your phone ‘cos we’re that close to a national blackout.

Decent steak

May I suggest Santa that you come a bit early and get a good steak in Fureys in Moyvalley? This could be the last decent steak that you’ll eat because another governmental decree is the re-enactment of the Slaughter of the Innocents i.e, to cull the poor suckler cows.

Our sacred cows of Angus, Hereford and continental breeds, which have been the backbone of our world-famous meat industry for over a century, are now in the crosswires of the ridiculous agricultural emissions people.

If the sucklers go, people’s livelihoods go and Santa, there’ll be no need for you to go out west as it’ll become a wilderness.

And in the east, those sucklers will be replaced with more dairy cows and dairy cow greed.

Then our beef will be produced from inferior dairy Holstein razor-backs. Santa, their meat will be as tough and sinewy as Prancer’s P-grading arse by the time he’s hauled you home.

Still, milled into a burger and garnished up, it’ll be better than those horrible veggie things.

Cracker of a year

It’s been a cracker of a farming year, Santa. We had the harvest of dreams - ideal crop mix, great yields, good prices and super weather and we even made money out of the cattle.

Everything came right which was brilliant. Yeah, fertiliser’s too high, but for that to come down we need cheaper non-Russian gas. I hear that up in the Arctic there’s huge reserves. Any chance of a pipeline into Yara?

Finally, Santa what about a nice present for Mrs P? Ever one for a bit of style, she’d kill for a pair of red-heeled Louboutins but not too high or she’ll be taller than me.

Can’t have that. But please - don’t do her on the cheap. The last thing Mrs P wants to see at the end of the four-poster is a crappy pair of Lidlboutins, straight from the bargain centre aisle.

Me? I’m good. I’m looking forward to reading Long Lost Log, which has a local connection, in the lazy fireside afternoons between Christmas and New Year. And it’ll be great to have all the family home because nowadays, bar a family funeral, it’s the only time it happens.

A very happy Christmas to you,