Confessions of a Hoarder 15.07.07

I must admit that I am a bit of a hoarder, in fact I am a lot of a hoarder, only surpassed by Robbie who has developed his hoarding skills to Olympic standard. Since we don't live in a mansion we really need to get to grips with some of the more ridiculous excesses of hoarding. I had a stern word with myself on the subject yesterday when I was folding the towels from the tumble dryer. A frayed and tired looking pink towel emerged and I realised that I had bought that towel when I was only a little older than Emily, yes that makes it well over 20 years old, closer to 25! It has seen so many family milestones and family holidays but ultimately it is just a towel and it has to go. My grandma would have cut it up to make cleaning cloths but these days we use kitchen towels, so it will be heading for the rag bin at the recycling centre. Come to think of it my grandma even cut up 'smalls' to use as floor cloths or polishing cloths, but in those days 'smalls' were not exactly small!

I have already been fairly brutal with my wardrobe, on the principle that if it doesn't fit it doesn't stay, but there is still more work to do. When Robbie read my entry yesterday about his embarrassing pose, he pointed out that I would be equally at home in a Beryl Cook painting. Sadly it's true, I aspire to be thinner but I also aspire to be taller and I probably have as little chance of achieving the former as the latter. It seems to take all my effort just to maintain my present weight but if one day I achieve a more sylph like figure it will be such a huge achievement that I will reward myself with a whole new wardrobe. Until then, if it doesn't fit it doesn't stay.

Well, that is the easy bit, now to confess the clutter that I can't bear to part with. Books! I am terribly possessive about books and I simply can't bear to part with them. Between the bathroom and the airing cupboard we have a huge bookcase that reaches all the way up to the ceiling. It is full of children's books, all grown out of long ago, but all loved and cherished and far too precious to part with. Sometimes I find myself walking upstairs and stopping at the bookcase to look at one of the books and to remember those precious days when the children were younger. That bookcase is just the tip of the iceberg more children's books are crated up and stored under Sam's bed (to stop him stuffing all his junk under there) and believe it or not I donated about 8 crates of books to a small school last year! We all have bookcases in our bedrooms and all are overflowing, Robbie's railway books and magazines intrude into every room, not to mention his cd's, vinyl records and model trains and track paraphernalia. There's no alternative, the books are taking over the house so we will have to buy a tent and live in the garden!

Laura wrote this when she was at Middle School, somehow it sums up why I find it so hard to part with their books, and yes I admit it we have a loft full of teddy bears!

My Bedroom

Through half closed eyes, at night
The memories are played.
Of different times
In this same room
Of younger, carefree days

I see the cheerful colours
And teddy bear designs
That once I loved,
In this same room.
The happiest of times

I hear the gentle voices
Of a younger dad and mum;
Reading to me
In this same room.
Of fairy-tales and fun.

I recall the doll’s pram
And the much loved teddy bear
That used to be
In this same room
When make believe reigned there

I see the Christmas stocking
That Santa came to fill
With childish gifts
In this same room
When magic charmed me still

I remember details
Of how it used to be,
When life was young
In this same room.
Time was eternity

My eyes survey the chaos
Surrounding me today;
Keepsakes and clutter
In this same room.
I treasure yesterday

Ever present memories
Of warmth and love and care
Surround me now
In this same room
A love that’s always there.


By Laura Jones