(800 words) “I’m here to talk about collecting,” said the man with a red face and a bald head with a couple of sandy tufts above the ears. He reminded me of an aged Tintin. “Why should you collect? you may ask, and what should you collect?” “Well, how would you like to fill your house with useless junk and annoy people?” my wife whispered in my ear. A very practical lady was Sandra. A place for everything and everything in its place. And if it hadn’t been used in six months, it was down to the charity shops or the tip with it, as I knew from bitter experience, looking in vain for my favourite mac on one – not to be discussed – occasion.