New Boots

My house is messy. It’s true. There is a lot in it. It’s not orderly, and nobody else could find anything if I died and left them to it.

Last night, Big Seymour likened me to my grandmother. Now, I loved my grandmother dearly, but she didn’t do housework. She read. She knitted. She learned stuff. And she loved a bit of telly. But she didn’t really ever tidy up.

I am afraid, dear reader, that I got a bit narked. I loved my Nanna but I am not she. I am always tidying! ALWAYS! But the trouble is, I am not very good at throwing things away. We live in an indulged society where landfill sites are overflowing and I struggle with this culture of just “chucking it”.

Don’t get me wrong, I do chuck things. Often. But I always have to have a little think about whether it’s the right thing to do, and contemplate a while. Is there any life left in this old boot, for example? Could I go to the cobblers and get the boot fixed? Should I? Or would that be pointless, since the boots only cost me a tenner and the repair would be more? Shall I keep the scrawl that Mini Seymour created last week, so that I can look back on it in fifty years and sigh? Or will it just make me sad… That old pencil – there’s life in it yet, so to throw it in the bin would surely be a travesty? I could go on. Suffice to say, to throw stuff away takes me time. Time to say goodbye, and time to accept. And time to raid the wheelie bin if, all of a sudden, I have a change of heart the next morning. It is very stressful.

As a consequence of over-thinking, I have too much stuff. And as this stuff is in The Shed (which is suffering the consequences of this wet weather at the moment) where there is very little storage space, my tidying never looks complete, and is easily undone.

Big Seymour doesn’t seem to understand. He lacks sentimentality over the scraps of paper with our kids’ names on them, and fails to comprehend the need to keep so many books in The Shed. But, might I add, when I try to throw away a pot of screws, that is not allowed.

Today, however, I am encouraged. I have thrown away my leaking boots!They have been thanked for their service, and are waiting by the bin. I will not weaken.

The laces have been removed (- there’s nothing wrong with those!) And then I went into The Funny Little Bungalow in search of new boots, for it is The Source of All Stuff. Seek and you will find.

Now, as we know, The Funny Little Bungalow is in a pickle. But, after a few moments divining my quarry with my super senses, I have located new boots, purchased when cheap a while back, and stored away for safe-keeping. Brand new, non-leaking footwear! Bingo.

So, my system isn’t pretty, and there is a mess everywhere, it’s true. I will continue on my perpetual mission to sort it all out, but if I can find stuff in the chaos, then it must be organised chaos, at least, and whilst I long for clean lines, open spaces and a home to be proud of, all that will have to wait. We live on a building site, ffs!

Our mission is simply to survive.

To see my foray into The Funny Little Bungalow to find my new boots here:https://youtu.be/CSjhc1sQAeo