LIKE most people I could do with some spare cash for Christmas, but it wasn’t until I remembered Westonbirt Arboretum’s annual Enchanted Christmas extravaganza that inspiration came.

Visitors to the wonderful attraction in Tetbury can look forward to an illuminated mile-long trail through the trees.

The big switch-on at 5pm a week on Friday will come complete with appearances by Father Christmas and his reindeer, and there’ll also be carol singing and a special festive market.

Tickets cost a very reasonable £10 for adults, £8 with concessions and £5 for children, but if you fancy something a little closer to Swindon I’m throwing open the garden gate of my own home in the run-up to Christmas for just three quid a pop.

The first thing you and your children will see as you enter the winter wonderland from the back kitchen door of my house is a magical shimmering wishing pool amid the paving stones in the patio area.

This is a new feature, and is only possible thanks to a blocked drain outside the kitchen window that I never got around to clearing.

The pool is at its best when I’ve just done the washing up or pulled the plug from the bath. You and your loved ones are invited to go for a paddle, play in the foam, chuck in some coins (£2 coins work best) and make your wishes.

What you wish for is entirely your choice. If you’ve just met a potential new partner, for example, you might want to wish that you’ll make each other happy for years to come; if your finances have been a bit rocky you’ll want to wish for a raise or a better job, and if I’ve just bunged some caustic soda down the kitchen plughole because the sink’s backed up again you’ll be hoping 2014 brings successful skin grafts.

I can’t afford any reindeer but I’m planning to tape some cardboard antlers to the local cats which use certain of the flowerbeds as a place for rest, recuperation and bathroom stops.

On a subject related to those cats, I should point out that there are no pine trees in my winter wonderland, so visitors should refrain from picking up anything that looks like a small pine cone.

I should also point out that we will not be leaving confectionery for visitors to find, so the warning about pine cones should also be applied to anything that looks at first glance in the gloom like a walnut whip.

As my winter wonderland is an eco-friendly attraction, I’ve decided against having festive lights powered by the national grid.

Instead there’ll be a pathway around the perimeter of the garden made up of those solar-powered outdoor lights that sometimes come as free gifts in filling stations, the ones that are supposed to absorb energy during the day and use it to power their bulbs at night.

This means visitors won’t see any bright lights initially, but their vision will be full of shining stars as soon as they trip over and crack their heads on the rockery.

Christmas, of course, wouldn’t be complete without a chance to meet a fat man with a snowy beard, a big red race and a ready laugh, and my winter wonderland will be no exception provided I’ve managed to neck enough supermarket own-brand vodka.