It was my grandad’s funeral today – he was a lovely man, full of integrity and eminently respectable, he set a high bar for me live up to personally and I’ve got lots of fond memories, but there was one in particular that I shared with people at his memorial service.

I remember staying with grandma and grandad when I was little and getting up early because I knew grandad would be up watching television.

All the curtains would still be drawn and the house would be dark, but we’d sit and watch Flipper or Skippy or Lassie or whatever else was on channel four that early on a weekend morning.

After that he’d make me some Ready Brek in the microwave, with a bit of grandma’s fancy mixed sugar sprinkled on top (she had a sugar bowl with brown sugar mixed in with the white stuff.

It’s an inconsequential memory in many ways, but to me it feels ineffably nostalgic and cosy, a little snippet of a way in which he shaped my early thinking.