Years ago, when my dad owned a home in Scotland and a flat on the south coast of England, I went to visit him in the flat and he offered me a cup of tea. Unfortunately, when he opened the fridge, he was forced to give up and pour a glass of wine instead – apparently all the milk was in Edinburgh. Over the years, that fridge was home to some of the most creative home experiments in just how far something could be past its best before date before he declared it inedible. In retrospect I’m not sure his stock control was up to owning two homes.
