Even after all these months of shopping for Ms J, the topics of our doorstep conversations will never cease to amuse me.

Today's started with:

"You know next time you come and visit I may be in prison" - apparently Ms J hadn't received her Census form, but fortunately a friend had sorted it out for her this week.

"I'm no good with all that computer stuff, never learned it" she goes on to say "I used to drive lorries you know, and hang out with the heavy mob..."

For some reason I found myself involuntarily taking a few steps back.