I finally received a Christmas card from Dave (the blogger, not the TV channel) yesterday. In keeping with the Christmas spirit, I think Royal Mail must have sent it by donkey. It certainly took long enough to get here. In addition to a card designed by one of Dave's readers, the envelope contained a mysterious pamphletty item wrapped in festive paper. I'm hoping it's the 2008 edition of his book on Sarah Mallett, but I don't want to get my hopes up.

As nice as it was, however, Dave's card wasn't my favourite of the day. That honour belongs to this one, which Lisa brought home from work yesterday afternoon. It's from one of her colleagues, and bears the cheery greeting "Winter Wishes", which is one of those phrases which sounds nice until you realise it means absolutely nothing.

Personally I took it to be a title, and assumed that the sender's winter wishes for us both would be detailed inside the card, so I opened it up with much excitement to find this...

I think it's the most festive card I've ever had. Who needs to mention Christmas when you can say everything you need to say in just two words. I presume if you go to Australia, you can get cards which say "Summer Wishes", and feature a couple walking down a beach in the sunshine.

It makes me wish I'd sent my Mum a birthday card which just said "Hello". All that 'Happy Birthday' nonsense is clearly a waste of time.