I don't think I've polished a pair of shoes since I left school. When I was 13 I had a woodwork teacher who, 5 minutes before the end of a lesson, conducted a shoe inspection. Any boy whose shoes were not considered black and shiny enough had to wait behind and polish them until they were. But this week I found a pair of my shoes that would have failed the inspection from 100 yards away. Somehow, when we moved to Cornwall 18 months ago, they ended up in the garage, and have since lived under a pile of assorted junk and firewood. Covered in dust, and looking like they might have been rejected as mouse housing, they really needed a good polish. That necessitated a trip to Woolies to get the polish and brushes, but they came up quite nice!


Two days to go until Worldwide Pinhole Photography Day!