Dump the Junk

A late return home from Port Glasgow where we were clearing my Dad's house before handing back the keys to the housing association. The bulk of the work was done by these three guys, collectively known as Dump the Junk. A rather harsh description of the contents of my mother and father's household, but to the outside world that didn't know them that's just what it is – junk.

They did a fine job, at a price of course, but worth it in the end. It means I don't have to return to this house again and that is no great loss. It wasn't the house I grew up in. I'm sure my parents had good times here with family and friends but for me now the memories are only of ageing, infirmity and death.

I won't miss it.