I’ve got a car full of unwanted cardboard boxes, because we had some new chairs delivered yesterday, and the packages were, at my request, left outside for me to carry into the house. Then there was all the unpacking to do and, finally, the boxes had to be flattened. However, you’ve now got to make an appointment to visit your local tip, and when you book a date, you’re sent a set of rules, one of which states: Ensure any children remain in the car, seatbelts fastened, at all times. So, you’re not even allowed to hurl an unwanted teenager into the ‘miscellaneous objects’ container? Where’s the fun in that?

I’ve just seen my young friend Owen, for the first time in three months, and I’ve missed him. He’d hate me saying that, and would mutter and grunt in embarrassment, but it’s true.

Just before lockdown, Owen and his lovely wife Molly, had their first child, Louis (with a silent ‘s’). Obviously, I’ve not been able to meet Lou E. properly (I’ve given him a rapping name), but wrote him a letter, and he’s even replied, using some outstanding vocabulary for a child of such tender years. We’re hoping to have drinks and biscuits in his mum and dad’s garden soon. I can hardly wait.