Play That Funky Music White Boy

Fin and I were mooching in our favourite second hand place, 'Pam's' - bizarrely run by a lady called Carole, maybe she just thought that 'Carole's' might suggest a hair salon or a tea room? Nick is oblivious to the name difference and blithely calls her Pam, which I guess she gets a lot.

So anyway, mooching we were, to feed my vintage crockery habit and Fin's penchant for board games of any type. I found a lovely Poole platter and some mismatched aperitif glasses (for the soon to be ready hedgerow liqueurs ripening in the cupboard). Fin with his bargain hunters knack, dug up a 1980's roulette set and a similarly aged game called Therapy. 'Fantastic!' I cried, 'we can acquire a dangerous gambling addiction and then DIY fix it with that Therapy game!'. Sold, to the optimistic lady with a plateful of other peoples unwanted glassware - Ker-ching!

As I was paying up and wondering how on earth all this booty was going to fit into my bike panniers, Fin came sprinting over with an egg slicer, all twinkly eyed with wonder, 'can I get this too please?'.

'Fin darling, what do you want an egg slicer for?'

Fin looked at the egg slicer a moment, puzzled by this new bit of information. An egg slicer eh? Then he began delicately plucking the wires to produce the sound of a slightly out of tune Oriental harp; humming and smiling at me triumphantly whilst Carole clapped her hands with delight.

So I handed over another 50p and my heart felt big enough to fill my chest as we cycled home to supper.