Following last week's abortive attempt to get my Christmas shopping in Boredstares, today I thought I'd give the Millionaires' Playground a go.
The High Street was rammed, with the market in full swing. And I have to admit that the happy cries of 'Any bowl (of brussels sprouts) you bloody well fancy!' briefly drew my attention. However, not wishing to appear cheapskate by presenting my Aunt Mavis with a bag of vegetables or a disposable lighter for Christmas, I changed tack and popped into one of our twelve card shops. There I met with moderate success, finding a couple of reasonably tasteful Christmas cards, just along from the shelves sporting birthday greetings such as 'Happy 30th Grandma' and 'For The Best Stepmother's Boyfriend In The World'.
Bypassing the huge bones labelled 'Postman's Legs' (the perfect present for the rabid hound in your life) outside the pet shop, I popped into the seasonal 'Polar Village'. Here I felt slightly hoodwinked by the advertising, which had promised an ice skating rink. Hmmm. No ice, just that plastic stuff with a few poor souls wondering why their skates wouldn't budge. And not so much a rink as a patio.
So I ended up getting most of my pressies at our local biblio-bloke Michael Child's splendid secondhand bookshop on trendy King Street. A cup of tea and a browse. Now that's my idea of civilised shopping!