This is how to do presents:
Every year, in November, “aunt” Charlotte would send me my Christmas present. It was always the same: a thick, leather-bound Smythson diary with gilt-edged paper. She would buy one for each of her six godchildren and, before posting them, made her own entries for events she felt we should know about. She included her birthday on April 1, followed by those of Her Majesty the Queen and the heirs to the throne. She wrote a reminder about the date of the State Opening of Parliament, the Sovereign’s Birthday Parade, the Garter Ceremony, the Cheltenham Festival, the opera season at Glyndebourne and the Isle of Man TT Races (which she went to every year).
On my birthday page in February she would write exhortations concerning good manners, physical fitness and recommended reading matter. When I was 10, she wrote: “Learn to ride and find yourself a decent hunter.” She always slipped a theatre ticket and a fiver into the pocket at the back.