If it had been cold enough to remove my gloves this morning, my tweets from my first car boot of the year might have read like this:

1: holy shit it is COLD *scrapes ice off car with broken CD*
2: the queue for the car boot is long. I thought the 0.5 degree temperature might have put people off. Then I remember I am in Yorkshire.
3: eggs, potatoes, root veg, stolen lawn mowers, dysons
4: wow, the Murton car boot now sells root ginger! Who’da thought it.
5. £5 English pounds for red spotty egg cups?! I *don’t* think so love.
6. Oooh old junk being sold by an lady in a wax jacket. Jackpot.
7. Still on the same stall. £2
8. A bike! Which I don’t need. Neither does Lil. Move on, don’t look back.
9. I find myself entranced by a woman in a pink ski suit, pink fluffy hat, pink ski boots. OMG. She has a live owl tethered to her wrist. A live OWL.
10. OWL.
11. She’s gone before I have chance for a photo.
12. More old tat. £3
13. Do I hear the sound of Military Elvis? £3
14. Crochet wonderland. I bought a blanket out of admiration really. £4
15. Railway postcard in frame. I like old British Rail stuff. Not trains. Can i just make that clear. 50p
16. Stall selling corned beef and pickle sandwiches. Sorely tempted. Time to go home.
17. I love car boots.