...my true parents gave to me, a big pile of crap belonging to me!
I'm not kidding. My dad took me to visit my Gran this weekend. Mother phoned me a few days before hand to ask if it was alright if he dropped off one or two books of mine that were still at my parents place.
Of course not, I said.
Foolish, foolish error.
Turns out that "a few books" equates to six boxes, seven bags and my parents rubbing their hands with glee. I am literally surrounded by tat and toot. My bed is marooned in a sea of cardboard.
I have NO idea where I'm going to put this stuff. Books, children's books, old toys, school uniforms, exercise books, a disco ball, LPs... it goes on. Oxfam and Save The Children on Clapham High Street are going to get a sizeable chunk, I reckon. It's time to say goodbye to a few things.
The posters are worth a special mention. Some awesome Tim Hunkin ones I wouldn't mind seeing framed, but a whole LOT of 90's music posters. Mostly free ones that came with Select. Ash, Sleeper, Boo Radleys, Oasis... am I too old to put
Don't blame the parents though. They live in a tiny wee place, and my stuff cluttering up their space is most unfair. It's going to be interesting sorting out the stuff here where I live, rather than under their roof. Some tough decisions will be made.
And now to Freecycle, to try and find some shelves...
I'm two boxes in and already have genuine fear. Turns out keeping everything I've ever been given and everything anyone ever sent me may not have been such a tip-top idea. People, I'm a hoarder...
I thought I'd unpack all the books, to see if I can group them together and just sort of see where I am. Unfortunately it turns out there where I am is surrounded by piles of books and having a small nervous breakdown.