One of little Al’s favourite things is our weekend trip to the markets. We’ve got a routine now, that starts with a snack and a coffee – decaf macchiato for him, double espresso for me, followed by the butcher, deli, and wholefood shop, before finishing with the fruit and veggies at the grocer. Little Al talks about it all week and tells anyone who’ll listen.

There was a time, many years ago as a young kid, when I knew the people that sold us our food. I could walk to the orchard at the end of the street for a box of fruit and veg, head off in my stroller with my nonna to collect eggs from around the corner, trade a bucket of loquats from the man two houses down.