A revelation.

My dad has these light brown shoes that he likes. I call them his Skip Shoes. He got them from a skip.

He actually wears shoes that he found when he was walking down the street and saw them in a skip. In my mind's eye he's probably barefoot when he finds them.

All very well - I can sit in quiet (not so quiet) judgement at his strange lifestyle choices, but it turns out he collects other things. Like glasses. Skip Glasses. Our kitchen cupboards are apparently populated by glasses that my dad has found in the street. I have been drinking from abandoned hives of germs and beasts and matter, found in the road and brought back to our house.

It's like we're a sanctuary for crap that people don't want. I feel a knot in my gut. That's 8 months of accumulated ill-health.