Christopher `Kit' Dooley, Santa Claus at Clery's, Dublin

I've been doing Santy for 40 years, between my own children and my eight grandchildren. In fact, myself and Mammy Claus are expecting our first great grandchild this Christmas. I remember coming to see Santa in Clery's myself as a child.

I retired from Cadbury's some time ago because I needed a triple bypass. I started working as a Clery's Santa last year part-time, and this year I'm full-time. They employ three full-time and one part-time Santa. We work an eight-hour shift, six days a week, from November 11th to Christmas Eve, with overtime as well. Before the grotto opens at 10 a.m. we Hoover it and make sure it's full of parcels. Sometimes, if there is a big queue, we open early, because it's too cold to have people waiting for ages outside. There are two grottoes, and we open the second one when it's crowded.

I get all ages, from 10-week-old babies in my arms to big 13-year-old girls who plonk themselves on my knee. I even had a paraplegic lad of 21 who had won medals in the Special Olympics. He gave me a big hug and a kiss.

I like to spend time with each child and ask questions and give advice. Like if they say they want a bike, I say "What goes with a bike?" "What, Santy?"

"A helmet." I tell them Casper the friendly ghost will be on the look-out to see if they are wearing the helmet.

I keep the spare eye on the parents just to see if the kid really is going to get a bike. I couldn't promise anything before I get a read back from them. If it looks like a bike is out of the question I say "If you don't get the bike, what would you like?" Or if they are asking for too much I say "You're not leaving much room in my bag for other children."

I have some great stories, I wish I had written them all down. One little fella came in and he gave me a kick, to see if I was real. Another lad said he'd seen me on Henry Street and what was I doing up there? I told him Rudolph needed something to eat, so I'd had to run up to Moore Street to get some carrots.

I don't sit back with my arms folded like a god. I lean down until I'm at their level, acting like granda acts. I have great crack with the grannies. They often ask me what I'm going to give them for Christmas. I hold out my arms and say "a big cuddly toy". They love their cuddly toys.

Ite O'Donovan, director of the Dublin Choral Foundation

I've worked on Christmas Day for the last 20 years. For me, Christmas is the music, more so than the dinner or anything else. Since I founded the Dublin Choral Foundation in 1996, Christmas has always been the busiest time, because everyone is looking for choirs. In December we work at least 18 of the days, between extra rehearsals, our showcase concert in the NCH, special functions, and Christmas Day in Adam and Eve's Church in Dublin.

There are 30 members of the Lassus Scholars, which is a semi-professional chamber choir, and 45 boys and girls in Piccolo Lasso (aged nine to 15 years). I also have about 25 probationers, between six and nine years, who are preparing to join the Piccolo Lasso. This is a secular choir, the first of its kind, reflecting a social change whereby not everyone is free to sing in a church every weekend. Except for the busy month of December, our situation is very flexible.

I look after the music. I can be seen lugging huge suitcases in and out of my house at all hours. The neighbours must wonder what business I'm in! When you do what you love and love what you do, it isn't a burden. This is my hobby. Other people go home to their family, I go home to my choirs. I also teach in the College of Music, and I'm working on a Ph.D.

On Christmas morning we arrive at Adam and Eve's at 10 a.m. and rehearse. We begin the procession at 11.25 a.m., going from the sacristy, through the church, to the gallery at the back, singing O Come All Ye Faithful. That's a special moment. That's when I feel proud to keep alive a tradition of centuries.

Don Magrane, chair of the IFA Turkey Committee

It's a staggering thought that my 1,000 turkeys feed 5,000 people for Christmas. Christmas dinner is a big occasion; it has to go well. I live between Maynooth and Kilcock; I have two acres of land and I rent a shed. For most of the year I'm an agricultural consultant, advising farmers on plant protection from disease and pests. Before that I was managing a farm, and that's where I got my experience with turkeys. December is a quiet time of the year - the land is too wet to do anything, so it gives me the time to do the turkeys.

We order 1,000 chicks from Whittaker's Hatchery in Cork in January. They arrive as day-old chicks in August. I keep them in a shed with one side open so they have natural light and ventilation. It is covered with wire-netting to protect them from predators.

The killing and plucking starts on December 14th and lasts a week, 15 hours a day. It's a perishable product to be consumed on one day, so there isn't much time. The butchers have all these demands: they want the birds on a certain day; they want a particular weight and shape. They seem to think it's like pressing a button on a computer and out pops the turkey.

Our 20 pluckers are mostly lads from secondary school; sometimes a few girls. Two experienced lads do the killing in a different shed so as not to upset the live birds. It's a simple procedure: the turkey is hung by the legs on a hook, you hold its head with one hand and press down with the other on a point in the neck. The neck breaks. It takes a couple of seconds. I do a lot of the killing, and I help the pluckers with the difficult feathers. We have the radio on. I try to create an atmosphere of fun.

The turkeys are hung for five days - with a fan on to keep the temperature down - so the meat is firm. Then they are taken to the butcher. It's eerie when the birds are all gone. The shed is quiet. No morning chirping when they're fed. I have a few sheep here, and I don't like bringing them to the factory. Especially pet lambs I've bottle-fed. Turkeys you wouldn't warm to as much.

I'm not sure what my main motivation is for continuing to do this: habit or profit. It's a stressful time and I'm shattered by Christmas Eve. We go into town with the kids and I'm like a zombie.

Liam Quinn, manager of Coillte's Christmas tree farms

This is a seven-day-a-week job, from November 1st to December 15th. A Christmas tree is a fresh, perishable product, and you can't store it - that's why there is so much activity in such a short period. Stress is something you just have to deal with. Issues have to be solved 10 or 20 times a day. You're under pressure and you have to make quick decisions. But there is a buzz about it, and lot of satisfaction out of getting the job done. It's about making Christmas magic for children.

We have three million Christmas trees on a total of 735 hectares (1,800 acres). Our four farms are in Wicklow Tipperary and Roscommon. The trees are all at different stages of development. We have 200,000 for this year's market. Next year there will be 300,000. Seventy per cent of the total is for export to the UK, France, Germany, Holland and Belgium. During November we harvest and dispatch trees for the export market.

The first two weeks of December we focus on the home market: wholesalers and retailers have to have their trees by December 14th. We retail direct ourselves too, right up until Christmas week. The trees are cut down, put into a yard, into nets, onto pallets, and then on to the lorry.

It's my job to ensure that our revenue targets are met and that individual farm managers have a plan in place to meet their targets, with all the labour and machinery they need. Year-round, 40 to 50 people work on the farms, but this number multiplies by four in November for about five weeks. The extra people are generally local small farmers or forestry contractors. It's a chance for them to earn some extra money.

We try to stagger demand, but everyone wants their trees at the same time. We just have to manage as best we can. Delays are caused by machinery breaking down, or illness. Bad weather can be a problem, especially if we order a truck from a haulage company and there's a storm on the Irish Sea and they can't get the trailer back to Ireland on time for us to load up our trees.

We take the safety element very seriously: we only employ contractors who wear the safety gear and have trained in the use of a chainsaw. It's a team effort; everyone pitches in, and there's a great sense of satisfaction at the end of it all. The other busy people at this time of year would be the ones working on the sugar beet harvest - and that's not half as magical as harvesting Christmas trees.