The first signs appeared months ago with the "Across the Miles" cards materialising in the shops.

Then came the decorations, gift sets and multi-packs.

Get a free bag of mini toiletries when you spend £40 on this goo to make you look 10 years younger.

But now the rot has really set in.

It's November and the worst thing of all has appeared on television, the Coca-Cola Christmas advert.

There are many people who feel this hails the start of the festive season.

At my house it launches the sound of wailing and gnashing of teeth as the choir harmonise those repetitive lyrics "holidays are coming, holidays are coming".

My teeth are on edge just typing the words.

'Tis not the season for the real thing, it's the season of Yule logs and satsumas, warm woollen mittens, brown paper packages tied up with string, preferably at some point after December 15, thank you very much.

For weeks now the same old banal festive music, at extremely loud volumes, has been blasting out in department stores, on repeat play, putting me off making any purchase.

Do we wish it was Christmas every day if it involves Noddy Holder screaming about his stockings on the wall?

Or Phil Spector's stable warbling Santa Claus is Coming to Town, when we're barely out of October?

I adore The Pogues and Kirsty McCall's Fairytale of New York, but only in the comfort of my own home, during the two days of Christmas, while drinking the special offer Cointreau and watching The Sound of Music.

This is not a Scrooge-style "bah humbug" reaction to Christmas, as I enjoy the act of giving, it's just the high street's four-month-long extended Yuletide that puts me off the season to be jolly.

Surely people want to buy their gifts in peace.

We know Christmas is coming, it doesn't need to be shoved down our throats.

How many others try to run the gauntlet of staff keen to have shoppers try out the latest thing and Christmas must-have when all they want is a pair of socks?

What is the essential Christmas gift anyway?

If there's a shortage of iPhones or a Wiis, then don't get one.

I've never failed to wonder why people succumb to the hype around such things, turning shoppers into a scrum.

It happens with food shopping, too.

There's a dearth of lime cordial and pickled onions come December, and it's a battle to buy the basics.

It's only two days, people, not a siege.

The horrors of the high street have hit me hard this year, as for the last five years I've carried out 90 per cent of my Christmas shop peacefully online.

Everyone gets what they need and it arrives in the post.

Now my local sub-post office is under threat I'm put off attempting to order anything through the mail, as I'll have to drag the returns to Chapel Road Post Office.

But that's a whole new nightmare.