The Loft

The loft is done and dusted and never to be entered again.

Boxes are packed, much thrown away and a few memories stirred.

I know you should live in the moment but the odd photograph that has come out of a box has evoked some strong memories.

I can't remember stroking the donkey to be honest but I think it may have been at Blists Hill museum in Ironbridge.

The other shot is of the end of a Lands End to John o' Groats trip, part of which I completed with John and Peter (pictured here) and my Dad. I think we'd just finished a 100 mile day at the time we reached here. The journey was better than the arrival in this case (unwanted surprise welcome being part of it!). This was at an age where I always seemed to be fit, the exact opposite of the current state of affairs.

The boxes marked fragile? Vinyl, vinyl and then some more vinyl. Should they have gone to the tip? I can't let them go yet but don't want to turn into a hoarder.