ATTIC ATTACK

It is 7.30pm, Tuesday, and we are all six of us upstairs on the landing standing in the bedroom doorways. Rod throws the last of the large black bags of clothing belonging to our family down to me from the attic and I add it to the other 17 bags strewn about all over the floor and by this stage I can't even see the colour of the carpet and I wonder how this all happened. How did we ever accumulate SO MUCH STUFF.

And then I remembered that it just might have something to do with me and the very simple fact THAT I AM PHYSICALLY UNABLE TO DETACH MYSELF FROM MATERIAL OBJECTS MOST ESPECIALLY CLOTHING.'

My mind kind of works like this;


Oh my beautiful dress with gold stitching.
This dress is so old.
But it's black and black IS slimming.
It doesn't fit me any more.
I DID lose 4lbs these past two weeks.
I haven't worn it since before I was married.
Oh the memories it brings back.
It's out of fashion now.
Fashions go in cycles.
I'm too old for it now.
One of the girls will love it when they're older

SEE. WHAT. I. MEAN. And that's why we had 18 black bags of clothing in our attic. OBVIOUSLY

After we stopped Sarah and Audrey from Mosh Pit Diving on the bags Rod and I sat down and divided all the clothing into four groups; SUMMER CLOTHES, WINTER CLOTHES, BIN & CHARITY If you looked carefully enough at the Bin & Charity bags you could make out the tracks of my tears in the setting sunlight of that long long evening.

By 8.15pm we were finished and mentally exhausted from all the trying on by the kids of the clothes to see who fit what and from stopping them from ripping clothing in half because two of them wanted it and one sleeve was better than none at all.

I learned things I never thought I could about my own and the kids characters from that occasion. Even Rods. You know, surprising little things like the fact that one pair of shorts was the ONLY item of clothing out of 18 large black refuge sacks that belonged to him

That's my man.