JUNK

No, I don't mean a Chinese Junk, I mean junk, as in rubbish, and possessions that are, in the main, of no bloody use whatsoever. Stuff you keep, just in case you might need it. We have lots of it. In fact I feel as if I'm drowning in it. I can't ignore it, it's got to go, it won't fit in a boat.

Every time we have someone to view our house (picture) I have to open built in cupboards which are full to bursting of stuff that I haven't seen for quite a while. It feels as if it's maliciously re- introducing itself to me, like a kind of regular torture.

I'm married to a serial hoarder who has to have two of things in case the other one breaks down. He saves the most amazing items and I've never been quite able to fathom out why. Why would someone want a large cardboard box full of empty, plastic, pill/capsule containers from a pharmacy?

Does anyone know where I can acquire a tranquiliser gun and dart suitable for a large man, so I can sneak round a corner, fire it into one of his buttocks and when he lapses into unconsiousness have a clear out of his junk. I have to do it this way because otherwise I wouldn't be able stand the pleading and begging , and hang-dog look in his eyes over every article, which no sane human being could find a valid use for.

Then there is the junk, which isn't junk if you see what I mean. A vast collection of LPs, books, antiques in various shapes and forms, pictures, some of which Him Indoors painted. The majority of it won't fit in a boat.

So, this is more than just a transition from land to sea. "Things" will have to be reluctantly parted with, some of it I will wave goodbye to with a sigh of relief, some not.

Interesting times.

Kats