My father is nothing if not resourceful. My parents' garage is full of All Sorts of Stuff - like picture frames that might come in useful some day, or small tobacco tins, or different sizes of screws, or carefully stored - I know, because I did this myself, yesterday - apples. Why keep some things, one might well ask, like an old battered wheelbarrow? The answer is, of course, is that one rescues the cyclamen that were growing wild on the garage roof (that's another story), and grows them in it.
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