IT HAS come to light I am not the only financially illiterate person around here.

Feedback from my column on the subject a couple of weeks ago proves there are a lot of financial dunderheads out there.

One lady told me she read the column to her husband and accused him of the same affliction whereupon he quickly shot back that she had a number of illiteracy problems herself: lawn-mower illiterate, pool-cleaning illiterate, fixing-things illiterate, washing the car illiterate.

But hey, after I wrote that column I kept hearing news snippets about other kinds of illiteracies. They concerned a more serious form of ignorance: death illiteracy.

It appears most of the population suffers from this one.

We do not talk about our death, have no idea of funeral plans, and wouldn't discuss them even if we did.

I'd like to stand up and be counted as the odd man out here.

Financially illiterate I might be, but death illiterate I am not.

I have informed my husband, after severely warning him not to die before me, that I want a no-fuss, no-frills, miserly-budget funeral.

And I mean it.

I do not want a coffin. A cardboard box is my choice.

This is not just as a safeguard in case I wake up after being pronounced dead and have an urgent need to get out of the box in a hurry. A wooden one I could not kick myself out of, cardboard, easy.

But my main reason for cardboard is I do not want any money spent on me once I am gone. I can't see the point.

I wouldn't mind a few brightly coloured flowers painted on the cardboard box, perhaps a child's rainbow drawing or something similar, but that's it.

I have told my husband to harvest as many organs from me as anyone deems worthwhile, apart from the liver. I wouldn't wish that on anyone.

I do not want to be buried. Ashes are more my style. To be scattered somewhere fabulous: from the top of the Eiffel Tower or from the deck of a lavish yacht in St. Tropez. (I realise this is in contradiction with a budget funeral, but ... what can I say? I like a bit of flamboyance.)

What I do want at my funeral is great gushing waterfalls of tears. Followed by much laughter and knees-up hilarity.

My funeral music of choice is Elvis (Are You Lonesome Tonight), Frank Sinatra (My Way) and Shirley Bassey (Big Spender.)

These songs hold a special place in my heart as I have performed them often at two in the morning on the top of my staircase after a night of champagne-induced rollicking. (My friends have appreciated this muchly.)

I also want copies of the six books I have written to be given out to every person at my funeral/party, or one per couple, going back to budget-minded.

I have kept boxes of my books for this purpose.

A free book. Worth attending my funeral for?