AS I’ve mentioned before, we’ve gone organic. Our fridge is full of veg that’s never been sprayed, from fields abounding in wildlife, picked by happy yokels using a horse and cart and delivered to our house in a recyclable cardboard box.  Our meat has never seen a steroid, additive or antibiotic and comes from animals who have led happy lives, gambolling all day in the fresh air. If my son ever has a yearning for chicken nuggets, I make them myself with organic chicken breast, coated in free range egg and home-made breadcrumbs. Sure it costs a bit more – but we tighten our belts elsewhere to compensate.

Last Thursday was a busy day and I didn’t have time for lunch. I left work hungry so, on my journey home popped into a supermarket for something to eat. And there they were, calling out to me… A whole shelf of Pork Pies, not organic and each with enough colouring, additives and saturated fat to cause my heart to groan in anticipatory protest. I popped a large family one into my basket.

Post Pork Pie, I was sitting in a pub in a town the other end of the county with a friend celebrating the government’s latest U turn. The primary school of which I’m a governor (rated good with outstanding features thanks to a fabulous staff team led by an outstanding head) will no longer have to go through the distracting, costly and damaging process of becoming an academy, but can concentrate instead on making children happy and giving them the best start in life. This came hard on the heels of the decision to reverse the ban on taking in any Syrian refugees who have made it to Europe and offer asylum to some of the unaccompanied vulnerable refugee children the other side of the channel. A grudging acceptance in the face of a back bench revolt of something that should have been offered generously and willingly. In both cases, whatever the reason for the government’s change of heart, children would be winners.

‘Look! Over there!’ said my friend. ‘That’s the owner of our fabulous Indian restaurant. What’s he doing eating here?’ The pub was renowned for its beer – not its food. He was tucking into a plate of traditional fish, chips and mushy peas.

One famous study of personality types (that for some reason lumped me together with Napoleon and Attila the Hun) came up with the idea of a dominant personality and an opposite shadow. Most of the time one type of personality would dominate. But, it said, we each had an opposite shadow side. So if we were mainly introvert inside there would be a little extrovert struggling to get out.

This week, with a measure of guilt and pleasure, the restaurateur and I satisfied our shadow personalities. Now, how do you plan to feed yours, I wonder…