For a while my loft was a thing of wonder. Everything was in boxes, all neatly piled up and in most cases labelled. Most of what was up there should really have been thrown out instead of hoarded, but at least it was hoarded tidily.
For the last year or two I have left it to the boys to put stuff up there and retrieve it, but today I ventured up the ladder for the first time in ages and it is now somewhat less wonderful.
I was up there to try and find some cassettes. Any cassettes. I don't drive far in Dad's car, but even so I am getting bored with the fact there is no CD player, no input for an mp3 player, and only a choice of Radio Mercury and BBC Southern Counties, neither of which are very clear.
There are several boxes of tapes up there but I could only manage to get at one. Fortunately it held a not-bad selection of pre-recorded tapes and I came back down with some Talking Heads, Genesis, Peter Gabriel, Cheb Khaled, John Lee Hooker, Betty Boo, a punk compilation, and three Yello albums. Should keep me going for a while.
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