But strangely, what we have is a record of our travels over the last 15 years.

There’s a bulbous blue lighthouse from Whitby, chosen because Whitby doesn’t actually have a bulbous blue lighthouse.

There’s a picture of Saint Anastapopodopoulis (or something similar) from Lesbos, looking gaunt, tortured and golden-haloed, a sinister head of Anubis from Egypt, a gaudy cicada from Provence, a pair of clogs from Holland, a gannet from Bempton Cliffs, a Guinness bottle from Dublin, a miniature frontage of Riems Cathedral and another of Rievaulx Abbey; three appalling badly-executed monkeys from Gibraltar and a clumsy elephant from Cape Town.

And that’s a tenth of our collection.

Our use of those magnetic fridge letters that always seem to spell something drunkenly inane like I smell your milk daffodils and blow over your green teeth with love starlight in the moon to one or two feast days a year, then it’s back in the box with them.

Amazing, though, how many people have this sort of thing permanently on their fridge doors. None of it ever makes any sense.

From our permanent collection, I think the most disconcerting is a dazzling blue eyeball that seems to follow us around the kitchen.

Neither of us can remember where we collected THAT one. It’s probably a CCTV lens.