“The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers,
Little we see in nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!”
Happy Christmas to you too, Wordsworth.
The ghost of the dead poet follows as I wander the city streets of Christmas getting and spending.
Here we go, dodging revellers merry on gluhwein from the Christmas market, stepping over a homeless man in a sleeping bag on the street, checking off a million lists in my head and trying to inject a little yo into the ho ho.
What is all this getting and spending?
Will they like what they get and do I care?
Stuff the turkey.
And that is where Martin Lewis, the personal finance expert comes in.
He talks sense. My friend sent me a clip of him from Radio 5 Live.
He’s urging everyone to sign up to Christmas pre-NUP as in No Unwanted Presents.
He says we should go cold turkey on Christmas.
The gift that you can give people is to release them from the obligation to buy something back to you, he said.
Teachers; friends; extended family – what is this retail festival that is Christmas but buy, buy, buy.
When people talk about the gift of giving, he says you must ask if, by giving, you create an obligation to give back.
Focus on close family and buy for them, he suggests, but after that do Secret Santa or give to charity.
Who am I to argue with Wordsworth and Martin Lewis?
Both speak perfect sense.
The friend who sent me the radio clip and I have a lovely arrangement.
We each tell each other what book we want and sometimes there is a little treat with it – a small bottle of Prosecco for one; a little packet of six fancy chocolates; soap.
My favourite place is on the sofa on Christmas night with a glass, a book and my chocolate.
In Christmases past, there have been a few dodgy errors in close family presents.
I tend to splash out at the last minute on a fancy piece of gadgetry thinking it is the perfect surprise.
You could start your own mini museum and fill it with my ghost gadgets of Christmases past.
They stare accusingly from the kitchen shelf, pristine, cast aside like abandoned maidens.
That fancy coffee maker was fiddly; we were too used to the old cracked coffee jug.
The air fryer was too small for three.
They are now in our museum of gadgets along with a jug liquidiser, an ancient sandwich maker and mum’s many old-fashioned accoutrements.
She bequeathed me grapefruit knives – there are such a thing – and enormous metal nutcrackers, a snip for anyone starting up a porn den in downtown Belfast. (I also have an Indiana Jones leather whip which was a gift from my hen night 30 years ago.)
Chez nous, we have honed down Christmas through the years.
We now prize above all the gift of communication.
No surprises, no “just guess” and nobody ever gets anyone a useful household implement unless they’d like to wear it round their neck.
Now we tell each other what we desire.
If someone says they’d like an exact replica of their ancient size 8 blue suede slippers – then who am I to buy green ones? I will never, ever step on his blue suede shoes.
Some of us take the money, buy the gift themselves and leave it out for the giver to wrap up.
This does nothing for the element of surprise but it works.
There are those who buy their children gifts from charity shops – small children are happy; larger ones less so.
But there is a seismic shift in the world, people think differently now, second hand is vintage is good to go is worthy. Save the planet.. recycle, re-use.
Years ago we gifted a cow to an African village or a hive of honey bees or a goat that would keep a family in milk for years.
Twinning your toilet is a no brainer – they even send you a picture of the grim shack you twinned with so that every time you have a pee you are grateful for the gift of running water, a private place, toilet paper and a flush.
Here’s to Wordsworth and Martin Lewis … Let’s all KISS for Christmas ...just keep it simple stupid.
