Some people would say I have lost my marbles, but actually the opposite is true. I’ve found some.

About a thousand, give or take a few.

It was last Sunday, and I treated myself to a visit to not just one car boot sale, but two.

For two or three hours I was in heaven, and I hit the jackpot several times.

I could tell you about the beer handpull and its pump that I picked up for less than the cost of two pints (what a bargain!) or the £12 plastic toy in the shape of a Bedford van, just like the full-size one my dad used to have (not just another bargain, but very rare).

But as thrilling a purchase for me were the marbles, which (for some reason as yet unknown to me) I have a thing about.

They fascinate me.

Big ones, small ones, clear ones, opaque ones, coloured ones, stripy ones, sparkly ones. I love them all.

The latest haul was in two separate lots, costing £7 altogether, and when I asked one of the sellers how much they were, he gave me the price for each, not dreaming I wanted the lot.

“I’ll take them all,” I said, “because I love marbles, even though my wife hates them.”

“Really?”

I think he was just humouring me by now, but I continued.

“I just can’t help buying them, but the first thing she is going to say to me when I get home is: ‘Don’t tell me you’ve bought more marbles.’”

I must have two or three thousand by now, and although I think there has to be some way of turning them into an impressive artwork or craftwork as a feature in the house or the garden, I still haven’t quite worked out how.

The best I’ve managed to come up with so far is to fill a tall vase with them, and it does look nice in the bathroom, but it really doesn’t come close to fulfilling their full potential.

Quite why I should love marbles so much is a mystery because it’s nothing to do with nostalgia, which is what usually attracts older people to them.

Although we had a few marbles when we were kids, we didn’t play with them much.

I think it was simply because we didn’t know any games, or the proper rules, and there was nowhere to look it up in those days.

Besides, all the marble games I’ve ever heard of are really quite dull to play, and even duller to watch, especially when compared with the beauty of the marbles themselves, and that’s probably why we went off and played football or cricket instead.

My wife, on the other hand, has stories she will tell you (if you let her) about competing for marbles at school, and how it involved a drain cover that had holes and lines cut in it that were small enough not to let the marbles drop through, but provided some kind of target.

I don’t know whether kids play with marbles anymore, but I am sure they don’t play with them in the drains.

Unless anybody can come up with any ideas, all I can really think to do with my marbles is get them out from time to time and just admire them.

And of course the beauty of the internet is there are special websites for men like me to visit, and if you want to you can ogle exotic marbles of all shapes and sizes, until you go blind.

And I must admit I do that quite often, but only when my wife isn’t looking.