For marking the passage of the years
I’m firmly in the anti-landfill camp. I dread being presented with tat. What I really want for my birthday is plants. Maybe a really nice pair of snips. But giving seeds is even better, because you get a bounty of plants at once, out of a beautiful box. Wrapped with ribbon, falling open like the delightful parcel of happiness it is.
One to be savoured over breakfast in bed, or laid on a plate at a posh restaurant and cooed over whilst the champagne is poured.