Junkmail Junkie

My name is Beth and I'm a junkmail junkie. A closet catalogue collector.

Every week at least a truckload of catalogues get shoved into our letterbox. I rescue them, smooth them out, then sit down with a nice cup of coffee and enjoy leafing through.

My boys give me a really hard time because they say it's a huge waste of paper and hypocritical given my views on sustainable resources.

So I wonder, would I enjoy catalogues as much if they came by email? I already get a few that way, various things that I've subscribed to including retailers that I've handed my details over to because they shamelessly promised me discounts and frequent shopper points.

And yes, I quite like them, though I tend to read them in a hurry, while I'm sitting at the computer doing other things.

So I don't think they give me quite the same buzz as free, unsolicited catalogues in my letterbox. There's something about the unknown, and the unexpected that surpasses things you've chosen to have delivered. You never know just what might be lurking in the pile (it was a huntsman once, but even that didn't deter me).

And they're useful when there's a birthday coming up, because you can circle something and leave it lying around in the hope that someone will get the hint.

So I keep resisting the calls for a "No junk mail" sticker on the letter box, and any day now the Mothers Day catalogues will start arriving. These are not just fun to read, but make some interesting statements about society's view of mothers.

But that's for another day.