The odd things about holidaying in a hot place in late September is that you leave England wearing shorts and return in your thermals.

Winter seems upon us already, and I haven't yet taken the snails out of my wellies.

Unfortunately, I've also returned home not feeling as refreshed as I would have liked.

The number of nightly disturbances we experienced by both our toddler and our friend's child has bankrupted my energy reserves and caused me to develop a stress-related eye inflammation.

So I've stumbled back into my old routine and now all those onerous tasks I was expecting to tackle with renewed vigour seem even more daunting.

The most important thing I must do before next weekend is to buy my brother's birthday present (two months' late), my dad's birthday present (one month late), and see if, just once, I can buy my mum's birthday present (due next week) before it's time to start thinking about what to get them all for Christmas.

Clearly, I'm not all that efficient when it comes to present-buying deadlines.

I tend to leave everything to the last minute or later, and then wonder why I can't find anything suitable for those I love.

It's not because I don't think about the things I'd like to buy. I probably think too much.

My mum and dad had to wait six months for their special 40th wedding anniversary present and were probably too embarrassed to mention it.

I expect they thought I was a mean and selfish daughter who had just forgotten that, if they had never met, I wouldn't be here.

It wasn't that at all. It was that I couldn't decide which of the last season's Glyndebourne operas they would enjoy the most.

By the time I did, I had to wait for return tickets for the sold-out performances. They ended up with the best seats in the house.

My brother, who's also celebrating the number 40 this year, accepted my apologies the last time we spoke when I said I hadn't quite got around to buying him something.

But he then said he'd like a bedside lamp, and that means that I'll need to spend at least a full day scouring around for his request and then another week deliberating over the shortlist.

Given that it takes me months to think about buying just one present. I'm astonished by those who manage to do all their Christmas shopping in one day.

I only mention this because that's what some friends of ours did this week.

Sensibly, they had avoided the rush and removed the stress usually attached to scrabbling for the last bottle of bubble bath on the shelf at Boots on Christmas Eve.

I did have a plan one year to donate money to my family's favourite charities. But, even though I come from a strong, socialist background, they greeted this suggestion with as much enthusiasm as a Tory Party manifesto.

So now you know that if you do see me laden with parcels and wrapping paper this week, it isn't because I've got into the festive spirit.

That doesn't usually happen until late February.