| I move into a house. In the kitchen, there is a crockery set. Actually, not a set, but a big collection of mismatching castoffs. Made in England, made in China, made in Japan. Some bone china, some stoneware, some plastic. I spend time sorting them. Three plates of one pattern, two cups and saucers of another.
A coffee mug attracts my eye. Itís shiny and blue. Quality. I pick it up and run my hands over it. Oh, thereís a chip on the rim. Rough to the touch. Quite noticeable to the eye now. What a shame. In this motley collection, Iím looking for pieces of value. I put it down.
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