When Mum died and Dad moved into a home, I cleared out the house they'd been living in for nearly 5 years. Mum had done a really good job of getting rid of stuff - I was expecting the loft to be a marathon, but actually there were just cushions for the sun loungers, a hamster cage and picture frames. (There were picture frames in every cupboard and cranny, but it could be worse). She had however kept some papers that meant something to her - telegrams for their wedding day, a letter my Dad wrote to her when she was in hospital having just given birth to me, that sort of thing. I threw them away, because they'd mean nothing to anyone else, and there's no point me having a house full of their stuff as well as mine for whoever is left behind to sort, but I'm glad I saw them.
Gardening on the edge of Exmoor, in Devon
“It's still magic even if you know how it's done.”
That's me! Collector of bits of string, rubber bands, brown paper bags, odd screws and nails, plastic tops, anything that might come in useful. I think I do still have four biscuit tins of 'stuff' in the old garage. I inherited the passion and thriftyness from my Dad.
This summer we were forced (kicking and screaming) to empty our attic and three old outhouses to allow an extension and new garage to be built. This came immediately after emptying OH's parents house to sell (who keeps SIX pairs of slippers too worn to be used!) We now rent a container which is 95% full. The intention is to selectively import things into the extension and bin the rest, but I keep looking at the pile of anonymous brown cardboard boxes. I'm waiting for the right time.
I still have a big tin of buttons, passed down to my Mum by my Gran. Stupid as it may be, I can't throw those out.
That's a family heirloom!
I wonder how many people remember Mr Trebus on the telly.
I could tell many a tale of hoarding, good or bad, but there is something very satisfying about needing something at 4pm on a Sunday just to finish a task off, then finding it and finishing the job. Since moving from a generally normal life to an old tumbledown farmhouse on the Pennines i've found uses for all kinds of crap we brought with us or have here.
The tomatoes are collapsing and need support. You know that old baling twine hung up in the barn? Oh aye
Drain cleaning rods? Over there >
Chimney needs sweeping! Bet my Dad never knew his Victorian chimney sweeping kit would ever be used again, yet there I was....
We're sort of half and half. The attic doesn't have much in it as it was cleared to board it out and put some proper lighting up. This was after we had the loft hatch moved from the bathroom to the hall to allow access for a fold up ladder. All well and good. Some flooring was put in at one end. This was about a year ago and OH has said "it's too hot" (OK this summer), "it's too cold" (last winter). Other times "I can't because we have to collect the grandchildren and it's not worth getting started just to stop". I could go on but I won't. So although we have a 3 bed house 2 of them are filled with boxes. I am in 2 minds as to whether to throw or keep the large cards in boxes OH gave me for Xmas, birthday, Valentines!
While living in Maidenhead, I used to cycle in the morning on Saturdays and Sundays. This is the time when the men opened their garages which had never been used as a garage.
Over the years, I watched a few episodes of a Phil Spencer and "can't get my house sold" series.
"Ah, you are the collector".
"Remember, you are selling a lifestyle, not your personality".
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She had however kept some papers that meant something to her - telegrams for their wedding day, a letter my Dad wrote to her when she was in hospital having just given birth to me, that sort of thing. I threw them away, because they'd mean nothing to anyone else, and there's no point me having a house full of their stuff as well as mine for whoever is left behind to sort, but I'm glad I saw them.
“It's still magic even if you know how it's done.”
We now rent a container which is 95% full. The intention is to selectively import things into the extension and bin the rest, but I keep looking at the pile of anonymous brown cardboard boxes. I'm waiting for the right time.
I wonder how many people remember Mr Trebus on the telly.
I could tell many a tale of hoarding, good or bad, but there is something very satisfying about needing something at 4pm on a Sunday just to finish a task off, then finding it and finishing the job.
Since moving from a generally normal life to an old tumbledown farmhouse on the Pennines i've found uses for all kinds of crap we brought with us or have here.
The tomatoes are collapsing and need support.
You know that old baling twine hung up in the barn?
Oh aye
Drain cleaning rods? Over there >
Chimney needs sweeping! Bet my Dad never knew his Victorian chimney sweeping kit would ever be used again, yet there I was....
I am in 2 minds as to whether to throw or keep the large cards in boxes OH gave me for Xmas, birthday, Valentines!
Over the years, I watched a few episodes of a Phil Spencer and "can't get my house sold" series.
"Ah, you are the collector".
"Remember, you are selling a lifestyle, not your personality".
I ♥ my garden.