love a car boot?
The crack of dawn mornings, the shifty early bird who wants to get stuck in with helping you unpack, in the hope you may any second be unveiling a Ming vase.
The rediscovery of forgotten treasures, the memories they invoke of happier/sadder times.
"The shall I, should I,
maybe keep it till next time?"
Knowing all the while it must go.
All is so good for the soul...
I don't idly wonder...