Sunday, 16 September 2007
Car boot sale this morning. Not me but my husband. Up at 6.30 am to go haggle with the sleazy dealers. Not me . Another hour in bed at least. I had to admire the fact that he worked like a dog to load up the van then spread it out on an old duvet cover and take 50p here and £1 there for a lifetime's collected rubbish. You have to lay bare in front of everyone the kind of pottery vase with a picture of a cat you thought was cute a couple of decades ago. But then so does everyone else. One thing struck me was the myriad of unwanted gifts still in their packaging. The jokily titled books that no-one ever reads, the terra cotta tagine, the wok set with the out of date sesame oil. I must hold that picture in my head when I'm out Christmas shopping in a few weeks time. A word of warning . Never let your children loose with a fiver . They'll come back with a jokily titled book and an old wok.