I MADE a brave foray into our garage last week in an attempt to guilt my other half into clearing it out. I thought if I made a start, he would follow my lead and by now we would have a wonderfully clear space ready to fill with more clutter.
He still hasn’t noticed I’ve been in there. I even left a chair strategically placed in front of the door, but he has chosen to ignore it. I’d been balancing on it as I couldn’t find the ladders, even though I know they are in there somewhere.
It is incredible what we have stashed away; the eight-year-old Mouli, used twice maybe, from the baby food blending days – totally blame Annabel Karmel for that one; the jam jars for making garden lanterns – another failed project; the Christmas craft kits I ‘lost’ last year; mulled wine mix circa 2005 – can’t have been mine, I would have used it. And of course the usual Yellow Pages, magazines I can’t seem to part with, candle holders, wrapping paper, and a string of blue fairy lights I haven’t used in a decade but still keep - just in case. And that was just the first shelf.