January seems to be a good time to clear out all your old books. Some of course come brown and damp direct from a garage to our shop and thence, very quickly, to a re-cycling dump.

Some come carefully packed in boxes and then I feel more sad about putting them into white sacks and sending them off to the dump – but we really cannot sell the AA Road Atlas of Great Britain published in 1972.

Others bring in say 10 boxes and ask for the boxes back so we have to de-box all the books there and then – never much fun and they usually arrive five minutes before closing time.

Some come in black bags and when someone rings to say they have a lot of books and will we take them and then say they are in black bags, your heart sinks just as you say, ‘Brilliant, thank you, how many is a lot?’ And you are told, ‘ About forty or more feet of them.’

Well the bags came in and there were a lot. But, and this dear reader is a very rare occurrence, they were absolutely brilliant.

Art books. Lots of art books. All in pristine condition and all interesting – and all very saleable. And even more delightful, the woman who brought them in – clearing out her parents’ house – said she had been directed by them to only bring them to the Oxfam bookshop in Petersfield and be sure to sign up for Gift Aid (which means we get 25% more on every sale from the Government.)

So, having looked them all up and pricing them, we decided to do a window full of art books and as we were piling them up on the table ready to put in the window, people were buying them left, right and centre.

Usually, January in the bookshop is a quiet month – no one has any money left and books – even second hand ones are not high on the priority list.

This amazing gift to our shop has meant we have had a better January than anyone can remember.

So thank you, whoever you are, for getting the books to us. Thank you to your parents for loving art books, caring for them and making sure they got to us. We are never again going to be as despondent when we get a load of black plastic bags.

The lovely thing about Viennese coffee houses is that they look like they must have done 100 years ago.

There are men of a certain bearing coming in wearing great coats and homburg hats, women in fur coats, couples leaning together and having intense conversations and of course – cake of every kind of confection.

We slipped into one through the lovely arrangement they have of a semi-circular rail holding a curtain so that the cold is kept out when you open the door.

Inside the floor was not really polished, the décor a bit shabby, the waiters in long white aprons, the locals reading the paper and having a ‘melange’ of coffee and hot milk.

We had been sight-seeing and were cold and tired so sitting there in the warmth, watching the locals, was definitely in order.

Coffee houses was where the Viennese have conversations apparently. I am not sure whether they chat about nothing at all at home and keep the real stuff for coffee houses but it looked like that.

And it rubs off.

After a desultory conversation about what to do the next day, we started discussing how the Labour Party should run their election campaign.

‘Ask a nurse’ was the theme.

When bankers say they cannot reduce bonuses, the Labour Party should say they will introduce them to a nurse and then they can try and justify their position to her (or him.)

(And, by the way, can we really believe every banker who got a reduced bonus would up and displace their whole family to Singapore. And even if some of them do, are there no more intelligent people, with or without a physics PhD, who could take over their role?)

Is it fair that private schools get charitable status – I tell you what, ask a teacher in an inner city school.

How fair is the tax system – ask someone on the minimum wage.

Well you get the idea. The sad thing is that I could articulate this plan so much better and so much more convincingly sat in a Viennese coffee house – it must have been the atmosphere.

Perhaps we should send Ed Miliband there, after all it can’t make the current situation any worse.