It’s here again - Christmas of course - and that means presents. I don’t intend this in any parsimonious sense but it sometimes seems to be such a chore deciding upon what on earth to buy.

I must confess that the lady of the house takes on the responsibility for organising and marshalling on the present front - apart from her own that is,  and that’s where the problem lies!

If I’ve mentioned it before, I apologise, but I do try to reach for inspiration, and seek to achieve something that is imaginative; something that demonstrates forethought and consideration. Maybe a camel trip across the Gobi desert; even though that might give her the … STOP! I can’t keep doing obvious jokes.

My history on this topic is not good I might tell you. For many of the early years of our relationship it was a tradition that I would always buy her a box of Black Magic chocolates - ever the romantic - and then after maybe six years I was informed, and I should have noticed, that she did not like dark chocolate. Ponder as I might, however, I am still scrabbling around for something to buy during the final pre-Christmas moments, and as result I am sealed within a miasma of desperation. I should add that this is only made worse by the arrival of numbers of online purchases instigated by Mrs Allen, which are then often surreptitiously smuggled into the house and secreted in the spare room wardrobe. Like a child, I’m often tempted ….

In so saying, I always end up purchasing a needlessly expensive something, and I am sure that many of you will be familiar with the resultant sense of relief - and then you are casually informed that there are four presents in the wardrobe. Four presents? What! Oh no!

But as I get older the tension also rises because of that annual chore of having to produce one’s own Christmas list. Blimey this is a tribulation; I genuinely can never think of anything!

“Have you done your Christmas list yet, everyone’s asking?”

“(Thoughts: I haven’t had time because I spend every single one of my waking moments trying to think of something imaginative to buy you for Christmas. What are your thoughts on the Gobi desert? Do you need another bottle of perfume to add to the twelve bottles which you have in the bathroom?)”

“No, sorry I am working on it. Do I need any new socks?”

“New socks! You still haven’t even worn the ones you had from last year, and before you ask, you’ve also got more unopened boxes of handkerchiefs than the local haberdasher, even though you use them as all-purpose cleaning rags.”

“Blow it then!”

Don’t get me wrong I am not implying in any way that Christmas is anything but a lovely time for most. It really is something to look forward to and we seem to spend more and more money on it. Everything is now much more geared towards convenience: ‘Buying a turkey this year, why not get stuffed?’

On the subject of gifts, and as an indication of how things have changed,  a friend of mine once told me about the first Christmas present that he remembers, which was a giraffe made out of matchsticks and acorns. He loved it! Now I know that maybe you think my stories are often made up or infused with poetic licence, but I assure you that this is true.

Today, things are rather more mercenary. For example, two present-givers agree that, as they normally end up with things that they don’t really want, they come to an arrangement which can be defined as follows: I give you £100 pounds to spend on whatever you want - I go £100 in the red. You give me £100 to spend on whatever I want, which I then use to pay off my overdraught – as do you. Bonkers!

So here we are, approaching the end of another eventful year and another Christmas, surrounded by decorations retrieved from their hibernation and greeted like familiar old friends. Let’s not forget those who are not as fortunate as us, and there are more than we think. Christmas has a way of shining a spotlight on loneliness which is not apparent during the rest of the year.

Finally may I wish you all a Happy Christmas and a Prosperous New Year and an enjoyable retreat from the real world.  Can I also end with the hope that the pleasure which I obtain from writing these articles is, in some small way, matched by an enjoyment of reading them. The lady wife doesn’t know it yet but we’re off to the Gobi desert in January so it’s going to be a bit of struggle to complete the next one.