12 Days of Christmas

My boyfriend is a mathematician. He doesn't like Christmas carols, so I sing them to him all the time. This one piqued his interest, though, when I asked him to tell me the formula for finding out how many presents the singer receives over the 12 days of Christmas.

In case you don't know the song, the lyrics are below.

The formula is:
n(13-n) where 'n' is the number of days/item ID
For example, on the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me five golden rings = 5(13-5) = 5 x 8 = 40 so over the 12 days of Christmas the singer will receive 40 golden rings. Interestingly the most of anything the singer will receive is 42 geese a-laying and 42 swans a-swimming.

The 12 Days of Christmas
On the first day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
A partridge in a pear tree.

On the second day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.

On the third day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.

On the fourth day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.

On the fifth day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Five golden rings,
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.

On the sixth day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Six geese a-laying,
Five golden rings,
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.

On the seventh day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Seven swans a-swimming,
Six geese a-laying,
Five golden rings,
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.

On the eighth day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Eight maids a-milking,
Seven swans a-swimming,
Six geese a-laying,
Five golden rings,
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.

On the ninth day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Nine ladies dancing,
Eight maids a-milking,
Seven swans a-swimming,
Six geese a-laying,
Five golden rings,
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.

On the tenth day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Ten lords a-leaping,
Nine ladies dancing,
Eight maids a-milking,
Seven swans a-swimming,
Six geese a-laying,
Five golden rings,
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.

On the eleventh day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Eleven pipers piping,
Ten lords a-leaping,
Nine ladies dancing,
Eight maids a-milking,
Seven swans a-swimming,
Six geese a-laying,
Five golden rings,
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.

On the twelfth day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Twelve drummers drumming,
Eleven pipers piping,
Ten lords a-leaping,
Nine ladies dancing,
Eight maids a-milking,
Seven swans a-swimming,
Six geese a-laying,
Five golden rings,
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree!

Home

I'm writing this entry from 'home', which is to say my parents' place in The Hills. They've gone to a barbecue at their friends' place and my sister isn't due to arrive from Canberra until tomorrow morning. My brother has gone to Japan with his girlfriend this Christmas, and won't be back in Sydney until Chinese New Year. It is the first time in a very long time that I've had this house to myself - it feels strange and familiar all at once.

I managed to remember the code to turn off the security system. I stacked presents underneath the Christmas tree, lit up with flashing bulbs. The string of lights is now too long compared to the tiny tree, but seeing the spark-shaped casings connected to the ancient timer reminds me of the old days, when we had a six foot Christmas tree and lived in Kings Langley. That was twenty years ago - and I still want to know the contents of the boxes stacked beneath the baubled, plastic foliage with the same curiosity as then.

I hadn't eaten dinner, so I hunted around for a frozen pie and defrosted some peas and corn. I laughed at the overstuffed fridge, ready to disgorge its contents in the festive frenzy planned for tomorrow. Mum had replaced the microwave. The new one confused me and I couldn't defrost the pie properly. This, I discovered after I'd burnt the top in the snack oven but still found frozen morsels of chicken within. Another two minutes in the microwave and I burnt the top of my mouth. Unbelievable. I'd forgotten how to defrost and eat a pie.

I couldn't find the key to get out to the backyard so I went out through the front door and went through the side gate. My dog was confused and happy to see me. I'd forgotten her smell - somewhere between animal and the damp grass after rain. She didn't like that I'd brought the newspaper with me because it meant that she wasn't going to have my full attention, but she sat placidly enough at my feet and licked my ankles.

It began to rain again, the sharp pitter patter on the corrugated plastic roof bringing back a wave of nostalgia that rode summer rains of the past. I went back indoors and fixed myself a cup of tea, sat down at the old PC with the crazy ergonomic keyboard and began to type.