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Sunday, 8 September 2013

Sorting

When I went to take the dogs out this morning, I realised that it was really cold.  I had to go and find socks and everything.  So that time of year has come round again, when I sort out the summer clothes, pack them away and bring out the piles of winter woollies.

Having inherited loads of clothes from both my Mum and my Mother-in-law, this is is not as easy as it sounds.  I have been the "keeper of the good clothes" for my girls for 5 years now and I try and ensure that they are hung up, moth free and easily visible. They have had much fun over the years with evening dresses and jackets and, every now and again, something that produced the "sucking on lemons" face the year before, becomes the squabbled over "must have" item.

This year, as I started on the Herculean task, I realised that I must sort out my own clothes too.  It would be unfair to ask them to hang on to the blue and white checked shirt I bought from a charity shop about 10 years ago that has speckles of paint from more or less every room in the house on it.  That's a lie - it is almost totally stiff with great swathes of paint on it.  It is my painting shirt and, to be frank, totally impractical, even for the rag bag.  I also have: shorts that are to short, definitely middle aged and slightly grey NEED to go; T shirts that are ragged round the collar; vests that are too short or distinctly not white anymore; knickers that have no elastic and have come away in places from the waistband; single socks; socks with holes; jeans that are shredded (again for "painting"); gardening jumpers; sarongs that have long lost their colour and usefulness; swimmers that sag alarming revealing more than is entirely necessary; shoes long dead; hoodies (At my age?); and fleeces once pink, now attempting a violet colour unsuccessfully - I have kept them all "just in case".  In case of what?  

Not a clue.

So I am sorting out stuff for the charity shop, stuff for the rags and stuff that really will have to go in the bin.  It is a cathartic experience on one level but I am not enjoying it as much as I probably should.  Hopefully by the time wonderful E gets here tomorrow, I shall have whittled down my wardrobe to respectable and tidy, if not particularly interesting range of holeless, sagless, shred less, unstained, un-ruined-by-washing in wrong wash, respectability.

Wish me luck.



Picking asparagus in 2008 - I think I may go and confiscate HWISO's outfit too....

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