I’m decluttering this week. I turned out bags of old clothes and shoes last weekend and sent them to the recycling point, courtesy of Mr AL. This weekend it’s broken games to the bin and others to the village giveaway group. It’s a very nice feeling, clearing out the old things.
We have so much clutter as a family. Of course, that’s partly an artefact of being alive and having children and living in a nice, comfortable English house with a nice, comfortable capitalist society and enough spare money to spent on things that aren’t strictly necessary.
But it’s also partly because I’m a bloody squirrel, when it comes down to it.
I always think well, that might come in useful for this THING I have planned that I am going to need the help of four strong people, a plumber and three oxen to actually achieve but THAT’S OKAY, I’ll get it done! And then a decade later I’m surprised to find a pile of old wooden-and-glass doors in the corner of the garden that I was going to turn into a porch for my writing chalet.
This is a real example.
And as I’ve got older I’ve started taking things out of other people’s skips instead of trying to slip things into them. It’s a joyous feeling, making useful use of stuff other people have discarded.
It’s equally joyous to find a home for something you thought you were going to have to put in the bin. All our charity shops are shut at the moment, because #pandemic, but slowly and surely I am managing to shift things to make room for new energy as well as new trousers!