I asked the farmer if he wanted me to throw this in his incinerator. He was horrified at the thought and almost drained of colour at the very thought of me throwing stuff away and into a fire too.
This exchange prompted the inevitable question of, what is it then?
It's obvious, a useful collection of wire, cable, string and old baling twine. Well it's all old in truth and when will it ever get used?
The answer to that question defied logic, 'I won't know that until I think I need it and it falls foul of a use. But I'll know it when it happens, which might not be in my lifetime, but it'll come in sometime.'
You can't say fairer than that. Good old West Norfolk farming wisdom and you just can't beat it.
Then one of the Jack Russells, Barney to be precise, peed on it.