LB went to the farm today. Under duress but with effective encouragement. His face lit up when he saw his teachers apparently.

He was lazing in the living room, surrounded by his transport magazines when we turned up this evening. He showed us his scrap metal notebook. After the list of items he’ll need to set up a scrap metal depot, he’d drawn a picture of a lorry on each page and labelled them ‘scrap metal lorry’.

Towards the end of the book, there was a picture of two men with guns pointed at each other, labelled ‘Dirty Harry’.

“Wow. Have you seen Dirty Harry LB?’
“Yes.”
“You must tell Grandad, he likes Dirty Harry.”
“Yes.”
“Whose the other man in the picture?”
“Dirty Barry.”