It was my maid of all work Carmen's half day off today and she was only going out to 'brunch' with a friend, brunch! who the hell does she think she is, she's no stranger to an outside toilet and she calling it brunch! Anyway, enough of her. I usually wake up to the sound of birds gaily tweeting in the trees, however, this morning I was aroused by the sound of a rag and bone man, remember them? Once a familiar sight in the 70s & 80s then they disappeared, now it's seem they're making a revival. I got out of bed, looked out the window and saw him plodding down the street with his trusty old nag with his dulcet tones ringing out 'Annnnnnnnnnnyrabone' as a child that used to translate as 'A goldfish for your mother's best frocks' and off I'd trot clutching half a dozen dresses with the coat hangers still attached and the contents of the laundry basket, I wasn't going to be fobbed off with just a balloon on a stick, oh no, a goldfish for BHS and Littlewoods finest seemed a fair exchange.