Tim Dowling: we’re off to the dump – but what if the man is there?

‘It’s better when the man isn’t here,’ my wife says. ‘You’re his favourite,’ I say. ‘It’s like going to the dump with Princess Margaret’

The first half of January doesn’t feel like the beginning of anything. It’s more a drizzly, twilit interruption; a chance to fix broken things before moving on. Some of the broken things are emotional, some infrastructural. One of them is the oven.“It’s not the fuse,” I say, peering into the blackness beyond the glass. “The clock comes on.”“I’m buying a new oven,” my wife says.“This is a new oven,” I say. “It’s new to us.”“I’ve already found one,” she says. “Same size. And they’ll install it ...