I've been moving mountains today...no, really, mountains of books, crockery and other no longer required stuff. My folks are (hopefully) moving soon after 35 years in their current home. They are moving to a single level home that's easier to manage and closer to a helping hand (me). You'd be surprised, or maybe not, at the strange things that are lurking in the darkest recesses of a home that's been quietly accumulating life's laundry for each of those years. While my sister and I have never lived there, my sister's children have spent a huge amount of time playing, loving and laughing there so much of the "vitally important stuff" that's ever so carefully stashed has deep, meaningful memories.

I've spent the day trying to persuade them that much of it could be in better hands now...not least the toys that were once so cherished, but are now abandoned. There were hundreds of books, many of which have sat on bookshelves for 20-30 years, gathering dust and never being read. The mantra "do you want this?" "how long have you had it?" "if you've had it for 25 years and never got round to reading it do you seriously think you will now?" "OK - it's on the charity shop pile."

On one of my many (no not many, dozens) of trips between car and house with bags of things destined for other hands, my mum said "isn't this lovely". Yep. It is. It's now on pbase. It's a skeleton alright, but it's not in a closet, but then there is little in the closet now!