Darts

When I was young and my father was about to go out we'd ask him where he was going and he'd say, "I'm going to see a man about a dog". When I was older I realised that he went to his "club" to have a drink, play snooker or to play darts. It was definitely a club rather than pub but we didn't call them Working Men's Clubs then and certainly not in the Midlands.

My wife was looking through her coin collection the other day and came across these medallions that my father won playing darts. One of them is even inscribed to him and dated 1945, the year I was born. I'd forgotten all about them so now they will be put into my special memorabilia box.

The medallions bring back to me the memory of my father throwing darts: his stance, his movement of the dart when he was taking aim (holding it slightly sideways to the board) and his general concentration.

There is a lot encapsulated in objects like this. So, before you declutter, always ask yourself what memories things hold.