IDO hope you are sending Christmas cards this year. This lovely tradition is in decline, and it's not only charities that will lose out if they disappear: we all will.
Research by Oxfam has revealed we'll send 141million fewer robins and bells and snowy scenes through the post this year, which I think is a real shame.
Compared with last year, Oxfam's sales are already 14 per cent down, which doesn't bode well for them or us.
If cardless Christmases catch on, a special form of communication will have bitten the dust.
It isn't all plain sailing though, is it? It can be a chore, buying, signing, stamping and posting cards, particularly when there's an outside chance everyone on your list has decided to kick the habit but not told you.
If the postman calls while you're away, the cards pile up in your hall like a snow drift and form an immovable wedge.
The harder the front door is pushed, the more they jam and the colder you get - and the bluer Mr F's language becomes.
Once the cards are opened, stringing them up can be a disaster.
Just as you stand back to admire your display, it collapses on your head. Prop them up on a shelf and a slight breeze will send them tumbling to the ground in a sea of glitter.
None of these are reasons for opting out. Difficult economic times mean people no longer want to fork out the postage: 1st class stamps now cost 41p and 2nd class 32p. This soon mounts up if you send a lot of cards.
Also, most of us now text and email friends and family rather than phone or write letters, so sending e-cards or using social networking sites to send Christmas greetings has become more popular.
Not very personal though is it? More Faceless then Facebook.
Mr F and I will pour out the wine, put on the carols CD and write our cards as usual this year. It wouldn't be the same without this yearly ritual.
* Singing along to some Christmas ditty on the radio, I was getting into my stride when Mr F called from upstairs: "Is that Hilda Ogden down there?"
How rude. I'd actually been thinking I sounded more like Katherine Jenkins.
On a bad day, obviously. With a hangover.
And possibly laryngitis.