This week I received my annual box of wine from one of the companies I work for. A little surprising, considering they have asked for very little work this year, but appreciated. It's not a 'box of wine' in the sense of a box with a bag inside. It's a bigger box with twelve bottles inside, one for each of the twelve days of Christmas.
I reciprocate in a small way. I don't have the bank balances of these successful business owners by any means so last year I sent signed copies of 'Fears of the Old and the New' and this year it was 'Dark Thoughts and Demons'.
It seems I'm not the only cheapskate sending books. Herman van Munster has send the world's leaders a series of essays on 'Happiness'. There isn't much happiness in my stories, I'm afraid, although there was a Christmas tale in 'Fears'.
Perhaps he should have sent a series of essays on 'listening' or 'actually working for the people who pay them' or simply on 'how to not be a total git all the time'.
All the same, it did tickle me to see someone who looks the way he does sending out books on happiness. It's a bit like being told to cheer up by Death.
Just before he swings the scythe.