Among the nicest gifts I was given over Christmas – while recognising, of course, that all gifts are “gratefully received” – was a beautiful jumper from my esteemed Other Half. Pure wool, hand-knitted in Nepal, it drew many compliments throughout the season. He impressed upon me that it wasn’t cheap, and I have worn it nigh on daily as a result, changing it only to do the crummiest of chores.

Is it obligatory to wear gifted items of clothing until they are able to stand up by themselves? If it isn’t, it should be.

My mother’s partner, Mally, passed away in August, having battled for five years with a progressive condition known as PSP – similar to Parkinson’s but more aggressive, leading to decreasing mobility and difficulties with speech and swallowing. When he asked me for a fisherman’s gansey for Christmas a couple of years ago, I happily obliged.

I found a lovely navy one at a reasonable price through St Ives company Atlantic Shore (hand-knits are available, although they cost much more and take several weeks to produce to order). It went down so well, he wore it for three months, at which point we discovered it was hand-wash only. I bought a £7 acrylic replacement from Primark that could stand in for a few days while we washed and dried it.

I acquired both jumpers on my most recent trip up north over the New Year. It was a poignant occasion involving a visit to Mally’s house, which is currently going through the sale process, to manage some of his remaining effects.

These included precious photographs of Mally in younger, healthier times, and of his parents during the war; countless pictures of local scenes, Elvis Presley and Muhammad Ali - most of which were “gratefully received’ by the local charity shop - and the world’s biggest, heaviest illustrated Bible.

OH and I were reluctant to acquire too much “stuff”, having quite enough of our own, and I was keen to impress this stance on my mother, who was struggling to part with items (including several sets of stainless steel cutlery) on the grounds they might have monetary or sentimental value.

My own opinion is that most charities are well set up these days for recognising items of worth and selling them in the right place (usually online) to ensure the money is used for good causes. The days when you could pick up a bargain in a charity shop and make a huge profit on it are largely history.

But many items did make their way home with us: an oil painting of St Michael’s Mount produced by my father-in-law at Mally’s request, which will now find a loving home in my daughter’s room; a cosy Cornish tartan blanket, again a Christmas present bought from the lovely people at Tide & Country on Truro Farmers Market; and, more prosaically, a large box of teabags which was still in date and taking up space in a kitchen cupboard.

The manufacturer, 120-year-old Typhoo, narrowly escaped receivership in 2024 when it was taken over by vape maker Supreme. Apparently, tea has seen a dramatic drop in popularity: a recent survey by Mintel suggested that only 48 per cent of Brits drink builder’s, with a splash of milk, once a day, turning instead to competitors such as coffee, iced tea and herbal infusions.

Instant coffee is (inexplicably, in my view) more than twice as popular as tea, with sales of over £1-billion against tea’s £377-million; and young folk are increasingly happier with non-caffeinated beverages like water, sodas, fermented products including kombucha, and – Daughter’s personal favourite - bubble tea.

I’ve never been a fan of standard tea. I drink it black, and only really acquired the taste in France 30 years ago when I discovered flavoured varieties and herbal infusions. The French were way ahead of the curve, and cross-channel breaks usually involved a supermarket trip to stock up on my favourite brands.

Today, I don't need to travel - I always have a stash of Lady Grey, rooibos, camomile and a delightful menopause brew by Twinings. I have no idea if it helps the hormones, but it’s deliciously peachy. That Twinings has got in on the act is a sign that canny tea companies have caught up with changing trends - and those who pooh-pooh such brews as hippy or namby-pamby will go the same way as Typhoo.

If tea is viewed as “an old person's drink”, it would seem OH is an old guy in training, with the slippers and receding hairline to prove it. Cut him open and he will bleed tea with just the right amount of milk. He will therefore make his way through Mally’s Typhoo – an unlikely legacy - quite happily, and raise a mug to toast the man himself every time he partakes.

I might even manage one myself, in loving memory.