Photos. This isn’t quite what it seems. I have to get into one of those stinking booths in the Oracle shopping centre to get two passport-type pictures of my face, both for ageing purposes. The mandatory one is for a new driving licence, the other for a bus pass. I can do without these reminders, to be honest.
Shoes. I own three pairs (not including sandals and slippers). The only ones I ever wear are now worn to below the legal tread limit.
Toilet brush. This is for the caravan, which now has a toilet. The need has been established.
Books and music. Permanently on every list.
Shorts. I seem to have thrown out my last and only pair. That’s not strictly true, but the older ones are dysfunctional in both length and girth.
Marker pens. As co-coordinator of the Neighbourhood Watch, I receive occasional offers from the local police (no, stop it!), the latest of which is some property-marking kits which I have to collect from the police station. I’m trying to prepare myself for the conversation.