What's your view of Christmas cards? A contributor to the downfall of forests? A canny way for the Post Office to get more money out of us? Or essential for imparting Christmas goodwill wishes?
There are of course the unbelievably flimsy ones; guaranteed to collapse in a nonchalant heap the minute someone opens a door. Believe me, the message conveyed by a card that's the quality of a sheet of Tesco's Finest Loo Paper says far more than the heart felt "Best wishes from Tim and Jane" that's invariably scrawled inside.
I'm still receiving a card from Judy of Clapham; the daughter of a family my parents met at a holiday camp in the seventies. They've obviously been interrogating my parents for my address, because I wouldn't know them if one of them landed on my head displaying a neon sign with their name on.
But I do know that the extremely spotty (and gobby) Judy ended up marrying Derek and they now have two spotty and most likely gobby heberts of their own. They also have a cat called Harrington. I'm never likely to meet them (or Harrington)and they've never received a card from me, so why do they do it?
My parents were obsessed with Christmas cards. Each year, out would come their handwritten list and each new arrival would be ticked off carefully and placed on the mantelpiece. Then, on Christmas Eve, they would spend a good couple of hours expressing their disgust over why Tony from Liverpool hadn't sent them a card; how they never liked him anyway and how he's never ever getting another Christmas card from them.
Give me strength.
Anyway,if you know me, don't worry if you didn't send me a card. I'm truly not bothered; friendship has far better ways of proving itself.
And if I didn't send YOU a card, it doesn't mean I don't like you. I just find the whole thing a bit daft.
Bah Humbug.
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