Monday, 24th March, 2014.

As Bess the Psychodog walked me back home this morning just before 8, a cattle-feed lorry came through the village and pulled in opposite the skips at the Top of The Green where we were. The driver called over to me, so we went across to see what he wanted. “Wants to know the way to Tregaron,” thought I.
He got out of his cab and asked: “Do you know the difference between aluminium and metal?”
I said that I did, so he said: “Come and have a look at this, then”, and went round to the other side of the lorry. Recalling what my Mom taught me longer than half-a-century ago, I was glad I had Psychodog with me. So I followed him.
He opened his cab-door, revealing a rusting old milk churn. “Is this aluminium or metal?” he asked. I told him. Then he asked me how much it was worth – “£20?” he said.
He wanted to “do it up” and use the rusty old thing for a plant-pot holder for his mother-in-law! And the asking price of the churn was twenty-quid.
Such are the strange things which go on, usually unreported, in this special village of ours.

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