Spring Cleaning

Why on earth do we feel compelled to clean out our nests at this time of year ? I could set my clock by it.

I'm starting in the bedroom. The ghastly clothes have gone ( 3 bin bags full ) and now I've started on accessories. Down to a handful of bags ( smart, casual, cross-body, beach and shopper ) just 3 hats ( I never wear them anyway ) and now I've strated on scarves. What's with the scarves ? Ghastly chiifon ones, most I've never worn, masters of disguise ( big boobs ) , things with tassels and pom poms hanging off them ... the list is endless. Anything that was grey of beige ( greige ? ) has gone too. I've filled another binbag.

It's not as if I've ever worn any of them once, maybe twice.

Don't even start me on PJs. Christmas ones ( one day a year for goodness sake) , slinky ones, fluffy ones, ones that look like they belong to a 14 year old. I'm running out of bin bags.

Next stop wrapping paper. I've decided that only things associated with going to bed and waking up should be in the bedroom so that includes, dressing, hair drying, make-up and bedtime reading material. Why then is the bedroom now a multi-purpose sewing room, wrapping station, unwanted cushion depository and harbinger of boxes for items that might breakdown and need returning to the manufacturer ? Not to mention abandoned hobbies like calligraphy ( one of these days ) silversmithing, picture framing, quilting and beading.

Books have got out of control ever since DH dispensed with our bookshelves in favour of an antique boat in a glass cabinet that takes up half of the hallway. Coats have gone downstairs onto the coathooks, empty spectacle cases of which I have amassed about a dozen have gone in the bin. The emergency present drawer remains , used only last week when DH asked ( at 8am in the morning ) if I had any 'spare' gifts for a member of his staff who was into writing and travel. I came up trumps with a Moleskine Travelers Notebook and a wallet full of stylish pencils. And yes, I was able to provide an emergency wimple for a friend off to a Tarts and Vicars party without a costume and an outsized comedy sombrero when I needed to dress up as a Mexican bandit, all hauled from the emergency dressing up box that lurks in a bedroom cupboard drawer.

NO MORE . Bedrooms are for sleeping in. They are not a cabinet full of curiosities.

So, the next time I need a grey/beige, life sized rabbit costume or a tasselled and pom-pom adorned scarf with matching beach bag and I find that the cupboard is empty, I will only have myself to blame.