Sunday, September 19, 2010
Junk
Jan does make a fuss about this packing lark. Her natural instinct is to keep everything whilst mine is to chuck stuff away. The house we're moving to, whilst having the same number of bedrooms, is smaller than the present one and based upon the number of boxes already packed I have no idea where we're going to put it all.
I might even have to throw away some clothes that I haven't worn for 10 years. Now that's a sacrifice. I'm particularly thinking about a pair of jeans that are so patched and delicate that I almost dare not put them on. They're so soft and silky that they could actually be made of the stuff.
Mind you, having the reputation of being a chucker has its advantages. Jan does most of the packing herself. She can't stand the thought of me throwing away that priceless kitchen gadget or ornament that we haven't used or looked at for years.
Take the broken down chest type box on the kitchen terrace which I've been instructed to tackle (see how much I'm trusted), it's full of rubbish. Old tennis racquets, bits of moth eaten tennis equipment and towels for the dogs. When I pointed out that we are giving away lots of good towels, the thought that we might want to keep old, torn and manky dog towels didn't make a lot of sense. 'Just chuck the lot', I said.
That didn't go down too well.
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1 comment:
Or you could just do the French thing and take your junk to a brocante and try to sell the precious items for an inflated price. Every time we went to a brocante we were struck by the fact that we'd thrown away better than what was on sale!
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