After sorting out mother's many needs and wants I bundled her back into the front room (she'd been too close lounging in the conservatory) I then started a massive clear out of the kitchen.
Into a plastic sack went ornaments, jugs, pictures, bottles and pots. I was, you see, beginning to feel overcome, overwhelmed, suffocated by STUFF. It had to go.

I love collecting, as  you know, but there comes a time, a telling time if you like, when one realizes, in many aspects of life, what one does and doesn't want. This morning was such time. I didn't want big jugs. As I de-cluttered shelves, taking away all but the very best favourites I questioned my health. It hasn't been as incredibly good lately and 'tis true I'm rapidly approaching some kind of middle age so I think the time had come for an Emotions MOT.
Starting orf with getting rid of the superfluous.

So as I dropped bowls and pots and ceramic chickens and sweet cute jam pots into the sack I began to feel rejuvenated.It was as if, with every once must have object I threw away, my world and vision was made clearer.
I think having a very emotional and physically wrecked Mother lurking in the bowels of the bungalow has defo taken its toll not only my back but on every fibre of my being. So much so that I've taken to talking to my invisible dad. I feel murderously protective towards mum, if anyone even looks at her either patronizingly or with impatience my claws extend as does my tongue.

And that is why this morning and afternoon, I swept bric-a-brac orf the shelve in an effort to reclaim some space.

So without a tear dropped I bagged a ton of  trinkets which will, tomorrow, return to the place from whence they come...


Cooking tonight:
Of course