Shortly after Christmas I made a decision that 2008 would be 'The Year of Less Stuff'. Apart from myself, The Fixer is the only one in the house who ever puts anything away. Consequently, she's the only one who ever knows where anything is, and if you need a torch or a screwdriver, she proceeds to negotiate a half-hourly rental charge for using it. But I digress.
I knew I had made the right decision when The Football Fanatic arrived home the day the Christmas tree came down.
Her: Can anyone explain the garden shears in the porch?
Me: Actually, they're tree loppers. Your father cut the tree up in the living room.
Her: You know what it reminds me of in here? D'you remember those worksheets we used to get in Science, the ones that say 'Put a ring round each hazard....'
So, hampered slightly by a child with an ear infection followed by a virus followed by 'post-viral syndrome', I have slowly been filling bin bags and charity bags for the last two weeks, and I have to say it's all going rather well. Yesterday I assaulted the North Face of my own bedroom. This is the room where everybody else's unwanted 'stuff' ends up. It took me all day, but it was very nice to get into bed without having to take my life in my hands and negotiate an obstacle course worthy of the military.
Fired with enthusiasm, I have decided that as well as de-cluttering, we need to 'go greener' and I have signed us up for this:
Go and have a look. I'll wait.
I'm quite looking forward to it. The younger end of the spectrum are quite excited at the thought of playing Cleudo by Candlelight. The older end have rushed to their TV listings to see what the hour clashes with.
I care not a jot. Like I keep telling them, the rest of Britain may live in a democracy. You, unfortunately, do not.