This weekend I spent delightful time in Herefordshire. I still refer to this out loud as 'home' even though I have lived in BS5 for more than a happy decade. I think my brother does so too.
Part of the weekend routine fell into the pleasant habit of a run to the recycling centre in Ross on Wye (referred to by all as 'the tip' in the 1980s and 1990s but now branded as a more attractive activity). This time we were taking grass cuttings, bush trimmings and glass bottles and jars to recycle (diligently separated by Pa) . I told Pa I was happy to go on my own and leave him to a breakfast egg but of course, I am only 44 so he would come along, telling mother he would 'supervise'. Wise choice, I think.
After our work emptying this and that, we were held by the team on the ground because this top smart recycling was taking place on a big scale. I could have nipped out just before the operation began but I think Pa wanted to watch (well, of course Pa knew that was true of me....)