Buy presents online? You must be joking

Notebook

Nearly two weeks after Twelfth Night might seem a bit late to betalking about Christmas, but this winter's festive season hasacquired a fashionably long tail. Which is some compensation for thefact that the space under the Dejevsky tree at least wasdistressingly bare on Christmas Eve. This was when it suddenlydawned on me, having delivered the customary parcels around therelatives, that the giving had fallen somewhat short of reciprocal.All right, so the economy was in bad shape; there had beenemergencies and bouts of illness, and the clan, in the manner offamilies these days, is far flung. It was also possible that we hadunwittingly done something dreadful and that no one loved us anymore.

Still, it seemed strange that no one had mentioned anything. Weall of us speak at least once a week. With more family visits in theweek following Christmas, rather gingerly some top-flight diplomacybegan. I asked my mother whether she had received what we had sent,and what the nephews had received on the day. She mentioned that mybrother had been very pleased with the wine she had sent, and, bythe way, how was our wine and what did we think of the bright ideahe and his brother had had for our present?

At this point it became clear that something had gone sorelyamiss. When my sister arrived last week to discover that a calendarshe had ordered way before Christmas had not arrived, and a chinamug - appallingly packaged by the internet company - had turned upin shards, the picture became more complete. All the missingpresents were internet transactions; but how was the giver to knowthat they had not arrived, or the recipient to know that a gift wasin the pipeline? This would seem to be a serious flaw in the system,and one which puts customers at a big disadvantage.

Last week - finally - there were pictures of depots stuffed withas yet undelivered presents, looking rather like the early days ofHeathrow Terminal Five. The unseasonably (!) cold weather wasblamed. But the difficulty is that, if you don't know a present ison its way, you don't know to complain when it doesn't arrive. And,with the thank-you note obsolete, the giver will assume that all iswell.

We are just two adults in our household, so if the space underour tree is bare, we can pour ourselves an extra glass of port and"move on". But how many children were disappointed by the deliveryfailures before 25 December? And in how many households has thepresent dearth of Christmas of 2010 precipitated a family feud thatwill see out the decade? The upside is that in the last week or so,we have been the happy recipients of a case of wine, a calendar anda generous hotel voucher. The tree may have been dismantled, butChristmas just goes on and on.

Buffets - not naff, just bad for digestion

So William and Kate have plumped for a buffet at their reception,and the public response has veered from a dismissive "how naff" toapproval for this nod towards national austerity. If the wine ispresentable and the repast is high-class finger-food, so the guestscan circulate while partaking, I'm sure it will work out absolutelyfine. For the most part, though, I have to say, I hate buffets.

I especially hate them in holiday hotels, where they are aninvitation to load up on all sorts of incompatible everything, andafter a few days all the meals merge into one. Cheap and blandingredients are the majority, catering to the lowest commondenominator; hot food quickly gets cold, the plates are either toobig or too small, and you can never find a tray.

Most of all, though, I simply do not want to keep getting up anddown during my meal. I don't do that at home, even though I'mgenerally cooking it. Why should I pay to be my own waiter? TheFrench, in my experience, are terrible at buffets: they don't knoweither how to present them or how to behave at them. On the otherhand, they can serve a delectable three-course sit-down meal for acouple of hundred in an hour flat. Well done them!

The broken windows of Whitehall

In the latest update on the London Olympics, I was delighted tolearn that Westminster council has given planning permission forbeach volleyball to be played on Horse Guards Parade and theMarathon to finish in the Mall.

There should never have been any doubt about it - the venues willlook wonderful, on television as in reality. But I hope that theTreasury manages to get its windows repaired in time not to disgraceour capital on the sports channels of the world. It is almost eightweeks since student protesters managed to smash most of the groundfloor windows, and each time I pass, the windows are still boardedup. Now the boarding looks expertly done, nice and neat, no roughedges.

But what does it say that HM Revenue and Customs, as I still havedifficulty calling it, has not yet had its windows re-glazed? Arethe mandarins, perhaps, worried that more demos are in the offingand any repairs might be a waste of money? Is the state of theExchequer such that nothing can be done before the new financialyear? Or could it be that HMRC experiences the same difficulties asmost Londoners when they want some small household job done urgentlyat a reasonable price, especially if it has ethical qualms aboutpaying cash-in-hand?

m.dejevsky@independent.co.uk