The Seasons of Mists and Mellow Fruitfulness are with us at last, a bit late.

But then, we had its close relation, the Season of Rain and Rotten Weather, for most of the season once known as summer.

It is hard to realise it is only four weeks to Christmas, but every post (when you are lucky enough to get one) brings a reminder of the Season of Goodwill to All Men and of course, Women.

I don't know about you, but it seems to me that every organisation to whom I have ever donated a single penny has got my name on a computer somewhere which delights in churning out draw tickets which wing their way to my post box.

No doubt like you, I have my favourite charities, which I am very happy to support, but if I responded to every request for financial support, I would end up needing charitable support myself.

But what to do with the tickets which are sent to you in hope of a little gentle blackmail?

It gets to the stage that all your friends turn and run when they see you coming with raffle tickets, knowing you will try to extract cash from them.

I wish there was some way to indicate to those charities who send tickets year after year that you really have no hope of selling them and that they should not waste valuable resources mailing them out.

I know they are all raising money for excellent causes and I suppose one could write and return the tickets, but just writing my counterfoils for those I do buy keeps me busy.

It is also the season of school plays, carol services and sales of work and from those there is no escape if you are a granny or grandpa.

There are also likely to be raffle tickets on sale at these affairs, but I can't really grumble about that since I am frequently a winner of that same bottle of sherry which goes the rounds from one year to the next!

It is also the time of year when one gets invitations to the annual lunch of the various organisations with which one is involved.

The invitations often have an unfortunate habit of coinciding with each other and then you have to do a balancing act as to whom you can risk upsetting (or maybe relieving!)

Of all the things I am fortunate enough to get invited to, I enjoy the school plays and carol services the most.

Although I am no longer a school governor I am fortunate enough to be invited to various school functions and I always go if I possibly can.

There is a rumour afoot that my honorary granddaughter has a leading role in her school play this year but I will have to wait till I get an invitation to see for sure.

It is a shame that, because of the dangers of letting children out on their own these days, groups of carol singers are becoming a dying breed.

When I was young, we knew all the favourite carols and would resolutely go through all the verses outside the houses of unfortunate friends in the certain hope that we would be given mince pies at the very least for our efforts and, with a bit of luck, a sixpence as well.

Whether that sixpence ever saw the light of day in a charitable collection box I would not like to say, but it was an innocent and enjoyable way to start the Christmas season.

Now we have Christmas cards in October, Guy Fawkes Night every day for a fortnight and raffle tickets enough to wallpaper the entire house before we can get down to the real spirit of Christmas.

At the risk of sounding like a very old Third Ager, it was a lot of fun when you REALLY didn't know what Father Christmas was going to bring you.