My parent’s left earlier than expected, so I spent most of yesterday doing spring cleaning. The rubbish is easy – boxes and stuff that just add clutter. Clothes are a little harder, but I’m trying to set a rule – if I have not worn in a year, out it goes. But the most difficult are the books. I’m quite comfortable geting rid of the ‘holiday reads’, the random books, often thrillers, I buy in airports to keep me amused whilst travelling. But for some reason, it’s difficult to get rid of the really old stuff. I had a box of books I bought as a child (prices starting at 40p, 50p or 75p) which for some reason my mother had kept and then presented back to me when I moved somewhere (here or Amsterdam, I can’t remember. They are all childrens stores, mainly horse stories; today I could read them in about 40 minutes. But it’s funny, I picked then up and I remembered these stories, most of which I probably have not read for over 20 years. I can also recall more of who I was at that time; so getting rid of them is a wrench from childhood. But they’re going, next trip to the recyclers. And I’ll carry filling up the gaps with more books and more toys.