When January comes, I am seized by a nagging need to get rid of stuff. I think it’s as a direct result of all the consumerism at Christmas: as the tree goes out and the decorations are put away, restoring some sort of order to my home, I am filled with a desire to clear out cupboards too. It’s always a tussle of course – I never let anything go easily.
My husband, on the other hand is unstoppable. He appears with armloads of jackets, trousers and coats – this year there was even a tweed suit that’s never been worn – and consults me as to which he should get rid of.
This is partly prompted by the fact that he cannot resist a bargain and when the January sales come around, he’s online as fast as a rat up a drainpipe, scouring the internet for anything that has been reduced. New jumpers and boots appear and he immediately trades in the old ones. (That’s how the aforementioned tweed suit came to be – it was never really right but it was such a bargain he couldn’t resist it!)
He is excellent at accepting the limitations of storage space and always exercises the one-in-one-out policy. I do not.
I’ll forever find a way to cram in something else and now my daughters have left home I have two more wardrobes to populate. Dangerous. There again, as I often comment, it’s easy for him, he only wears jeans, one of two suits, shirts, jumpers and jackets – and a kilt for special occasions but let’s not get into that now.
I have dresses, shirts and blouses to consider, T-shirts, long jumpers, short jumpers, cardigans, a few skirts, wide-leg trousers, skin-tight trousers and many trousers in-between. Even jeans – I currently have eight pairs and they all serve slightly different purposes. I often end up keeping a pair of trousers or jeans that I only ever wear with one top, because that top, which I still like, has to have something that looks right with it.
This week I have been attacking the sock drawers – well one of them so far. I kid you not, I find I have 67 pairs of socks – and that’s just ankle length, trainer socks and shoe liners. I haven’t even started on the drawers of long socks, tights and knee highs yet. As a busy working woman – and mum - I used to be very disciplined about this: the idea of opening a drawer crammed full of unmatched pairs of socks was anathema to me.
I would clear them out regularly: I don’t know how on earth I found the time. Now that I am semi-retired, it doesn’t seem quite so important to have that level of order in my life. I end up forcing more and more new socks in until the drawer will barely close, because I can’t be bothered to throw any away. And yet I still can never find a matching pair!
Where did those maroon trainer liners come from? They’ll have to go. If you’re a fan of maroon, you’re in good company with my husband – it’s one of his favourite colours. I dislike it intensely. And those green ones, and beige ones. The truth is, I only wear black, grey or white socks so I have no idea why/how I had the others in the first place.
Then Finlay the cocker spaniel joins in - I should have known it was a mistake to sort these in the sitting room. Finlay loves a sock – any sock. He will filch them from inside walking boots in the utility room, steal them from the laundry basket and even slyly slide them off the drying rack while they are still damp. It’s all attention seeking. He knows the minute I spot him I will be fully focused on him and say
“Finlay, drop it!”
He doesn’t. He clamps his teeth more firmly and waggles his backside as he nudges me with his nose as if flaunting his prize. Sometimes if I hold onto the end of the sock protruding from his mouth and gradually try to ease it from his clutches, all the while saying persuasively
“Drop it……..Finlay drop it”
he will, bit by bit, let go of it. But now it’s all covered in drool and has to go back in the wash.
As the bags of discarded clothes fill up, it’s time to pass them on. Today, a friend and I did a re-homing round-trip to the council tip and the charity shops. As we carried armloads of big cardboard boxes, sundry spent electricals and plastic items to the relevant bins as directed by the council guys, we smiled with satisfaction.
The charity shop visit almost stalled when we discovered everyone else was doing the same and several shops weren’t accepting any more donations. My friend helped out a bit when she fell on my bag of clothes and extricated two jumpers and two cardigans
“Oooh, can I have these?”
“Gladly!” was my answer.
We finally managed to offload everything that needed a new home and drove back feeling very much lighter both literally and metaphorically speaking.
I’ve got the bit between my teeth now. It’s the pantry drawer next. That’s when I discover we have more basmati rice than we will ever cook in a lifetime and some very strange sauces I can’t even remember buying and I feel certain we shall never use. Then there are the packets of yeast I bought during Lockdown with some misplaced idea that I might have a go at baking my own bread. It never happened. Ooops, I’ve just found several packs of spices and stock cubes my daughters brought when they finished university and moved back home in 2020!
There’s no stopping me. I wrench open the cupboard where we keep all the paraphernalia for Finlay the cocker spaniel and pull everything out. Amongst the cans of food, box of kibble and bags of treats, I find his puppy collar and lead. These are very sweet in reminding me of just how tiny he used to be and I go all gooey for a moment, but I really must curb this habit of holding onto endless things for purely sentimental reasons when we really don’t need them.
There are quite a few puppy toys that he would destroy in an instant these days, so they can be found a new home. That tube of doggy toothpaste and the brush can go too – we’ve only used it once and we all hated the whole experience so much that we never tried again. The vet says he’s in fine fettle so it’s clear he’s managing to keep his teeth clean like dogs would do in the wild, where toothpaste is not routinely available.
“This is all very well” I hear you say, “but what about the video you mentioned in the title of this piece and have not referred to since?” Ah yes, the video. It was seeing this that reminded me I needed to get on with my annual de-cluttering sessions.
It appeared in The Guardian newspaper last week flagged with the title “Minnie Kondo: Mouse secretly filmed tidying man’s shed every night” and that’s exactly what it is. When wildlife photographer Rodney Holbrook noticed bits and pieces he left lying around on his workbench mysteriously ending up piled in a box every night, he decided to investigate further and set up a camera for nighttime filming. The resulting one and a half minutes is one of the most charming things you will ever see. You can view the video by clicking here.
Is January your de-cluttering time too? What do you prioritise getting rid of? Or are you a real hoarder and find it hard to part with things? Leave me a comment and I shall respond
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Cracking! Absolutely loved this and Finlay, what a little stunner! Butter wouldn’t melt springs to mind!
Good Morning! Yes loved your decluttering piece… it is very therapeutic! And loved the mouse video- saw it also on Sky News- what a cute very intelligent creature as of course all animals are. I love decluttering but also find it difficult to let things go as clothing especially holds so many memories and it’s an emotional thing isn’t it?! Still… am very glad I don’t have as many socks… very stressful😅
Finlay sounds like such a sweet fun loving dog- give him lots of cuddles🤗
We may be moving from Richmond to Dorset in a few months to help my mother in law so that will mean another sort/clear out🤦♀️ I will miss Petersham /Richmond hugely. A belated Happy New Year to you and hope you have a good weekend- keep warm!🐿