Charlesworth Nuts Blog

‘Twas the night before Christmas, at the Charlesworth Nuthouse
There was no one left stirring, it was quiet as a mouse
The gifts were all gone, been sent to the stores
I hope there’s enough, coz there ain’t any more

The team had collapsed all over the floor
Their eyelids just open, their bodies all sore
And Mark my dear brother, and I the Head Nut
Had crumpled beside them, our eyes nearly shut

But now they had gone and I lingered alone
Contemplating a time that had now come and gone
I glanced all around and what should appear
Was our warehouse now empty, it seemed very queer

All quiet in Gift Packing, there was none of the clatter
Of the last 3 months of hard work and chatter
From Brenda and Nova and fifty fine lasses
Who made thousands of gifts to delight the masses
They had toiled with talent, our own clever Elves
To make all the gifts to fill all our shelves
Backed by Andrew and Ian and Harry and John
What a wonderful team, a merry old throng

And the door to the Chocolate room now stands ajar
The pans have stopped spinning, it all seems bizarre
The Chocolate Team’s gone, they’re all tuckered out
But their chocolate lives on in mouths all about

The copper pots in Glazing sit idle and cold
While the tonnes of glazed product have now all been sold
The spoons are all hung up, the stirring’s all stopped
And for one glorious last time the floor has been mopped

The Packers have packed up and all gone away
By car and by bike and quite possibly sleigh
Their orders are picked (but never their noses)
The sealers were turned off as the roller door closes

The drivers, the sievers, the roasters, the fryers
The makers, the takers, the sellers, the buyers
The hustling, bustling, bubbling teams
Have all disappeared with their laughter and screams

While up in the office the screens are all blank
The keyboards lay silent, a dead fish in the tank
The phones have gone quiet, the fax has run cold
The ink in the pens is now dried up and old

And out in the stores where the throngs had amassed
And pillaged and plundered our shelves all en masse
The crew in the frontline stayed tireless and strong
And spread Christmas spirit and smiled all along

And then in a twinkling, I remembered them all
Three hundred great people, they all can stand tall
There’s the oldies, the newies they’re one and the same
And the 20 year champions, all revered by their names

There’s Ollie! There’s Shirley!… there’s Jenny and Mazza
Then Tattsy! Then Walshy!…then Elsey and Dazza
They’re some of the champs, to name just a few
They’re a world beating team, this legendary crew

Then I stand their reflective on a Christmas near gone
And I think of them all as I stifle a yawn,
upon my broad face, ‘bove my little round belly
Which shook as I laughed like a bowlful of jelly

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