Isn't it odd how some conditions seem to be age-related. It is like when you reach the age of 58 years 3 months and a couple of days you can almost guarantee that the focus of your eyes will change and whatever spectacles got you through the previous fifty odd years now need changing. Or the laugh lines that for so many years lit up your face now, like an unwelcome visitor, refuse to leave. And it is like the depressing desire to "put your affairs in order" in anticipation for what is euphemistically described in those daytime TV advertisements for old-age insurance as "that final expense". My parents were very much into putting their affairs in order and did little else during the last thirty years of their life other than labelling their Prudential Insurance policy in large letters so I could easily find it when the time came to draw the £47.38p which was the result of a lifetimes' weekly penny contribution. I always said that I would never tread that particular path, determined to go out in a blaze of disorganisation, but the other day I found myself making a mental note to my son telling him not to throw my German banknotes away as they might be worth a pretty pfennig or two.
So the purpose of this particular blog post is to lie dormant for a year or so (I am hoping for the "so" option) until the time comes and then for it to be read by The Lad before he embarks on a frenzy of house clearance. There is a small collection of old German banknotes in a file on the third bookshelf down from the right in my room that you might want to get valued before you dump them in the bin with everything else. I know you are busy and therefore I will do a search and try to get a current price on that 1915 20 Mark note; who knows it might put young Holroyd through university. I will let you know what I find out.
UPDATE : Just checked on eBay. Similar notes in good condition are currently selling for as much as £3. Now that was a lot of money when I was a lad.