Category Archives: 52 boxes


We’ve been here two weeks now.

Well the girls and I have, anyway. Poor hubster has been mostly stuck in Sydney, tying up loose ends and getting rid of all the stuff we don’t want with us down the coast.

So far it has been as idyllic as I hoped it would be.

The girls are happier. I am bathed in a glorious sensation of space. My cat looks about 5 years younger and is clearly more happy and vital than he has been in a very long time.

So many new smells to sniff and spaces (generally full of cobwebs!) to explore and neighbourhood cats to chase off his lawn!

I am loving having my in-laws next door. Even if we don’t hang out, I know they’re right there, willing and able to share a cuppa or watch TV with the kids or help with a problem at a moment’s notice.

I’ve had a few pangs of missing Sydney – the cafes here are a bit shit and there’s no nightlife to speak of – but I’m still so glad we took this plunge.

Of course school starts up again tomorrow, and I have the daunting task of making new friends from scratch ahead of me (which is a lot like dating, only without the loud music and booze).

And then there’s all these bastards to deal with:

*resigned sigh*

More. Bloody. BOXES!!

I’m going to end up buried in these things one day. I just know it.

Anyway, lots of blogging fodder ahead – and hopefully a lot more headspace to do it more regularly again.

To finish on a high note: I completed the central panel of the filet lace table-topper I’ve been working on for 6 years now. Ta-da!

It’s so pretty!

Only seven rounds of border to go now. Easy peasy.


Achievement Unlocked

No more boxes.

They’ve all been emptied, and sorted through, and culled, and reorganised to take all the stuff that is actually important to me to our new place down the coast.

The truck is arriving in one week, but the girls, the cat, and I will head down a couple of days earlier (so all the little ones don’t get caught up underfoot during the loading).

In the sage words of Pinkie Pie:


But right now, I’m super proud. I’ve drastically reduced the amount of unnecessary clutter we’re taking with us to our new life. New, coastal Meg will be more serene and relaxed, surrounded only by things that will bring her joy.

Eventually, anyway. I’m sure there will be at least one more pass at culling once we’re set up!

Doesn’t diminish this milestone though. ❤️

Panic attacks

The plus side: I miscalculated when school holidays started and it turns out we have an extra week before the move. 

The down side: regularly being frozen and overwhelmed by panic really impedes the packing process…

That being said, we got our first load of stuff down to the new place last weekend. My husband and his dad hired a truck and we got to work. 

Annoyingly, about a third of the load was all the stuff we still had in a storage unit on behalf of my friend who became homeless last year. She’s in Melbourne now and still not really coping so I promised we would take it with us until she is settled (which, to be honest, may not happen for a looooong while). I personally feel like she would be better off letting go of it all, but that’s not my call to make. It’s no real hardship for us to play caretakers so that’s what is happening for now. Hopefully we’ll find a more satisfactory resolution for that in the not too distant future…

Awesomely, we threw together about 20 boxes of our own stuff, along with a few bulky bits of furniture and other random things we can do without for a month.

That beanbag is stuffed full of soft toys (BEST way to store them when they’re not being played with, btw); one box has all our DVDs and PlayStation games; one box has all my winter jackets and track pants (which was “great” timing just before the Autumn weather finally kicked in…); the oven box has a few of Miss 7’s doll houses in it; all my CDs are in those milk crates and one small box – although one milk crate is only covers for the discs in my DJ folders that I need to keep here, and; all my books, minus a handful staying here for now, are in four boxes. 

All my craft magazines and books, all my recipe books, and all the other books that mean something to me are here. At least as many as these have been donated, sold or recycled as part of the culling process.

I will be able to fit all these in one set of shelves at the new place.

Not gonna lie, it feels pretty awesome.

And I’m pretty confident I can reduce things further when we’re setting up – especially with my CDs and DVDs. I rushed the process with them so I could put them in the truck (I reckon some angsty teens down in Jervis Bay are really going to appreciate the stash they will find at the local Vinnies in a few months…).

Up next, following the KonMari order of sorting through stuff, is skincare and makeup so I will attack the bathroom (where basically all of that is stored). I will cull my toiletries and makeup, attack the bath toys, go through the towels (we have way too many!), and give the room a good scrub down.

That’s my job for the weekend. If I get through that, I’ll start on my accessories (next on the KonMari list – man that book is a lifesaver when you are overwhelmed and don’t know what to do next!!).

Doable, right?

*breathe in; breathe out*

So long as the kids can entertain themselves I’ve got the next phase sorted. What could go wrong?

5 weeks to go…

5 weeks until we pull up stumps and head down the coast.

Here’s what my living room currently looks like: 

Inhale. Exhale.

My plan to systematically sweep through the house and approach this monumental task by breaking it down into logical steps hasn’t gone too well over the last two weeks. I just can’t do it. I can’t make a plan and stick to it.

This is something I’ve known about myself for some time now. Why did I expect things to be different?

Silly Meg! *smacks hand*

Hubby’s anxiety is going into overdrive and we’re both really overwhelmed. The girls are being their usual selves and cavorting like puppies all over any progress being made, upending boxes and spreading the resulting discoveries liberally throughout the house.

It’s kind of intense.

Still, small victories have been made. Hubby took a carload of donations to a charity depot last week: 

 and I’ve been chipping away at other discards a little at a time.

My new approach is to go back to pottering about with a few tasks on the go that I flit between as my attention wanders. It’s not as systematic, but I’m getting a lot more done. Alongside cleaning and sorting, I’m applying the KonMari method to my own stuff with the goal of packing what’s left as I go.

I already went through my clothes once six months ago, but I still managed to get rid of another bag and a few pairs of shoes. I’ve been re-embracing my gothic past and DJing at a monthly club again (which is SO MUCH FUN!!), so I’m really not sure what my particular clothing style is all about anymore. Thankfully, Marie’s method of asking each item “Does this spark joy?” does work like a charm: even if I rarely wear a particular item of clothing, I love looking through my wardrobe and being thrilled by what I see and feel. I’m calling that a win.

The next step is to tackle books. In order to do this correctly I had to fish out the last few boxes with books in them from my back room: 

 I had a little help. ❤️

Many treasures were discovered during this process, including more craft supplies: 

blasts from the past: 

and the first book I bought about tatting, which led to a lifelong obsession with yarn crafts: 

Check out all these gorgeous lace edgings! I adapted a lot of these into chokers and trimmings for accessories back in the day: 

Now I have to pool all the remaining books and magazines together and work out which ones bring joy into my life and which ones I’m just holding onto for the sake of it.

I’m so glad I’ve spent the last year or two actively working on my hoarding tendencies. I’m so glad that I’ve persisted with The Making of Mediocre Meg even when I felt like giving up and submitting to entropy. Now that it’s crunch time I’m in a really good headspace to make the most of this opportunity. While I’m still keeping the things most dear to who I am now, I find myself gleefully letting go of so much stuff – it’s more the logistics of discarding large quantities of crap that is the main thing getting in the way this time.

It’s a good place to be.

So close I can taste it…

I haven’t forgotten about my main New Year’s resolution for 2015 (aka the 52 Boxes project). I just haven’t blogged about it since the 8th box, which is inexcusably slack of me. I’m afraid I hit a point where the pressure of blogging (and guilt that I wasn’t!) was preventing me from making any progress.

So I surrendered and plugged away without really documenting it at all.

There were big gaps – especially while my friend and her daughter were living with us – but all up the hubby and I have gotten rid of about 30 boxes from our back room, along with various bags and bits and pieces of other crap. Not perfect, but I’m pretty happy with that result given how long those damn boxes have been sitting there!

I’d slowly sorted and culled about 16 of them by early November, but then there was a council clean-up scheduled that was too good an opportunity to miss. I rolled up my sleeves, cranked out the tunes, sipped on wine, and kicked the rest of the family out of the house – and cleared out 10 boxes in one day.

It was pretty awesome. 

I filled 9 of those boxes up with crap to be thrown out. Then hubby went through the boxes that were his and added another 4 to the pile.

My back room looked like this after I’d done the 7th box: 

Then it looked like this during my November blitz: 

Now? We’re down to 16 boxes in that room (plus a few empties to facilitate further rubbish removal): 

It’s soooooo much nicer in there. We can see the curtain again! And use the shelves!! I’ve finally moved my youngest daughter’s easel in there – only one year and two months after we got it. It’s still not really roomy enough to be a good art space but it’s so close to how I’ve wanted it to be set up for the last 5 years.

Hubby still has another week and a half of holidays to go and I am determined to clear that wall completely before he goes back. 

I can’t back down after coming this far.

I’ve decided that 2016 will be all about finishing things I’ve started. This project will be priority number 1.

How did you go with this year’s resolutions?

The 8th Box


Sadly, I didn’t end up winning the inaugural Thiel Grant for Online Writing. Not gonna lie, I’m a little bummed. That being said, I was Highly Commended and the winning project does look seriously awesome. If I was to be pipped at the post at least I was beaten by a pretty great idea.

Oh well.

Onward to the next box!

Box number 8 was really quite light (which was great since I had a little helper for this one).


Talk about a random collection of stuff! A bunch of it was old mail and padding to protect the vase, which could all go straight in the recycling. I also had to throw out the baby shampoo and bath wash in that gift box that was a good four years past its “best before” date. Thankfully the bunny was still in good nick (and immediately snaffled by Miss 2).


The non-rubbish ended up being mostly memorabilia: birthday cards; a scan and newborn baby photo of my oldest; DVDs burned for me by a friend; Rocky Horror stickers that I bought in Japan when I was 17; notes and pictures from myself, my kids, and others; a super cute sake set (that I can’t for the life of me remember where I got); a VIP pass for a music festival I was sent to when I briefly dabbled in music journalism with a street press magazine.



$80 worth of gift cards. From 2010.

*cue intense shame response*

I am the worst when it comes to using up gift cards. Especially in a shop like JB Hi-Fi where I walk in and get completely overwhelmed by choice. I prefer ones I can use on food or clothing or other essentials – I don’t get so caught up in choosing “the best” way to spend them then.

I will be adding these to another expired gift card I forgot about and rediscovered sometime last year, and keeping them somewhere prominent to remind myself to stay more on top of things. So sick of wasting resources like this! All these thoughtful, caring friends basically donated money to the companies on my behalf. Not cool, Meg. Not cool.

The vase and sake set were stashed away in the kitchen, the bunny absorbed into the general toy collection, the DVDs piled near the TV. The rest of the memorabilia was culled again and then put in a drawer for now.

I think I’ve hit a point where I need to address my permanent storage needs before I can go through any more boxes. Shifting piles of junk from one place to another is only really delaying problems rather than fixing them.

Gah! Why can’t I just click my fingers and have everything done? Slogging through the hard stuff has never been my forte.

But then, that’s kind of the entire point of this blog, so…

*skirts up and gets on with it*

*right after this cuppa, I swear*

The 7th Box


“Books – Heavy”

Once again, hubby nailed it. Just like the 6th box, this was another heavy box full of books. These books, to be precise:


There was a good mix of books from my childhood (including Pratchett, Kipling, and de Lint), scripts for stage plays, fun reference books, German and Italian dictionaries, and music reference books both from my time as an undergrad and as a Masters candidate.

Just check out these beauties:


Technologies of Gender; Sexing the Groove; The Norton Anthology of Western Music (referred to as NAWM for convenience) – awwwww yeah!

Instant flashbacks to fun conferences about intertextuality and semiotics and gendered representations in popular culture. It makes me smile to see my trusty old friends, which quite frankly comes as a pleasant surprise. By the time I quit my postgraduate studies my relationship to music was pretty fraught with tumultuous emotions.

Perhaps there’s still a musicologist in me somewhere after all…

Two other treasures of note were hidden in this box.


I came Second Dux of my primary school (was pipped at the post by my good friend who was a maths wiz – and was pretty grumpy about it since she’d only come to the school that year!). For my prize I was given a gift voucher for a local bookstore and asked to buy something for them to wrap and present to me at the final assembly.

I scoured the bookshelves for inspiration and happened upon the sci-fi/fantasy section (as I was wont to do). The cover and title for this book jumped out at me and the blurb was interesting so I thought “Eh! This’ll do.”

I wish I’d seen the faces of the admin staff when they saw it. Hopefully they just stuck the certificate on the inside cover and wrapped it without looking too closely because otherwise a report may have been made about my parents.

If you haven’t read any Charles de Lint let me just say that he’s not the most appropriate author for a 12 year old to be reading…

Needless to say I devoured the story a few times over that school holiday and promptly bought his next few books as they came out too. Really gripping supernatural fantasy with mythical elements, time-traveling and dimension-hopping thrown in for good measure. Good stuff!

(Meanwhile, the Dux of the school bought a few Babysitter’s Club books. I’m not saying that the school may have done well to reconsider their decision but… yeah, actually, I totally am.) (Not that I’m holding a 24-year-old grudge or anything.)

The other unexpected treasure?


When I first moved out of home I went through my parents’ bookshelves and grabbed a bunch of old classics that I felt like I really “should” read sometime (which of course I never did). My mother studied Literature at uni and used to privately tutor speech and drama for aspiring public speakers so we had a bunch of dusty old tomes lying around the place, including this one.

I flipped through it, glancing at pencilled notes in the margins when one caught my eye. Wait, what?


This didn’t originally belong to my mother – it belonged to my grandmother! I flipped to the front and right there was my Nana’s name, written in her flawless cursive handwriting, along with the name of the school in Kentucky she attended in 1944 – when she was 15 years old.

Around that beautiful inscription were random notes, clearly taken during her English class, scrawled in non-cursive writing not dissimilar to my own. Plus, written in the back cover is a bunch of random names – possibly of all her classmates?


SO CUTE!! Thankfully my Nana is very much alive and well at a sprightly 86 years old so I can’t WAIT until she’s next in town (she lives on the Gold Coast these days). I’m sure she’ll get a real kick out of seeing this.

Such a beautiful piece of family history to pass on to my girls!

See? Hoarding can be AWESOME sometimes.

That being said, I still haven’t found a long-term storage solution for all these books. I think I need to bite the bullet and clear out and reorganise my main bookshelf. Ugh! Effort.

Still, the result of my box-clearing efforts so far? Check. It. Out.


BOOYAH! There’s a piece of floor that hasn’t seen the light of day for a while. I gave it a good sweep and a run over with a microfibre mop. It now has a step-ladder stashed in it, opening out the rest of the room some more. YESS!

Seven boxes down, all this lot (plus a few more scattered around the rest of the house) to go…


The 6th Box


“Books – Heavy”

That’s what my husband had written on this box, and he wasn’t wrong. It was indeed full of books. And they were indeed seriously heavy!

Box 6 was full of coffee table/art books and books from my own childhood.


There were programmes and catalogues and photography collections alongside books of fairy tales and handmade ‘zines by friends – and a street directory from 1999, AND a calendar from 1986 (which I held onto for the pictures of cute kittens).


Thankfully the internet has rendered both these things moot now so that’s where I started with the culling.

There was also a bag full of memorabilia from my last ex-boyfriend. He’d given it to me after our breakup as the reminders were too painful for him to hold onto anymore.

Such a sweet guy. But so COMPLETELY wrong for me!

I felt awful breaking up with him. I was his first girlfriend. He was a shy, quiet type with painfully low self esteem and a desire to just live a content, everyday kind of life. At 23 he had fully paid off his university education and saved enough for a down-payment on his first home. He read the Saturday paper from cover to cover (even the Sports section). He listened to the radio in the mornings and had nice suits to wear to work. He gave me diamond earrings on Valentine’s Day.

Sensible. Dependable. A good provider.

Utterly stifling.

Something about the way we interacted brought out the worst in me. I was an AWFUL girlfriend – demanding, inconsiderate, selfish – but just couldn’t stop myself. In the end I got sick of hurting him and getting away with it. It was spiralling down into a potentially abusive situation and quite frankly we both deserved better.

I really hope he went on to find a life partner more suited to his personality. We stayed friends for a while but he dropped off the face of the planet when I announced my first pregnancy. I think he was hoping I’d go back to him up until that point but when it finally sank in that it would never happen he cut all ties.

Nothing in the bag provoked the slightest bit of sentimentality (in fact a few items were just baffling – I literally had no memory of them!) so it was all put aside to throw out or donate (apart from a few photos of me that were quite nice and a lovely photo frame).

Once I’d decided what to keep and what to donate I put the coffee table and art books under the coffee table (funnily enough) and popped the rest of the stack I was keeping to one side.

See the thing is, I don’t have very many bookshelves – and the ones I do have are mostly full of toys. If my younger self could see this state of affairs she would be appalled. Being a lover of books has always been a core part of my personality. I grew up around shelves upon shelves of books and was looking forward to providing the same environment for my own kids, but I find myself feeling quite ambivalent towards them now.

I never thought I would feel that way about BOOKS.

I still love reading but the thought of having all those shelves lining the walls is a little claustrophobic these days. This may require some creative thinking – there are many more boxes of books to get through ahead of me.

The 5th Box


This one was a bit of a mystery. Nothing was written on the outside and I didn’t remember packing anything into it recently. Here goes!


Oh wow! Wedding stuff.

This year (very soon!) will be our sixth wedding anniversary, which happened three years after we first met. Hubby and I really were a case of love at first sight: I’d met him at a mutual friend’s party and zeroed in, intending to just have a brief fling – but literally felt electricity course through my body when we touched. It was bizarre. I thought stuff like that just happened in books and movies!

One night turned into an entire weekend, followed by a mid-week date and another weekend together and before we knew it we were (for all intents and purposes) living together within a fortnight. I’d had a few boyfriends in the past but had never lived with a partner before. It was craziness!

But we just knew.

Fast forward almost three years and we were engaged, with a newborn baby to care for. We first met on 03/03/06, so on a whim I suggested we should get married at 3pm on our third anniversary, which would be 03/03/09 (when, coincidentally, our baby would be 3 months old). It was too perfect to pass up!

So we went online to see what we needed to organise – only to discover the government required notice of at least a month and a day. And it was the evening of 1st February.


Hubby took the next day off work and we went in to the Department of Births, Deaths and Marriages first thing to register our intent to marry. Since we had literally NOTHING organised we booked in for a simple civil ceremony at their offices with the assurance that we could cancel with a refund if we changed our plans.

The folder at the top of this box contained our receipt and various brochures about relevant government services. We ended up hiring a celebrant and booking the function room of our local pub for an intimate ceremony with immediate family and close friends (about 25 people all up), so nothing in this folder had anything of great significance beyond pure sentiment.

I flicked through it with a smile and then put it in the recycling pile, proud of how easy it was to let go. After all, I just have to look at my husband if I ever need a trip down that particular lane in my memory!


The rest of the box was a mix of some wedding presents, some of my birthday presents from that year, a few baby items, and some musty old clothes and furniture covers.

The clothes and furniture covers went straight in the bin. They could have possibly been washed and donated but it would have taken A LOT of effort to get them to a usable state and quite frankly I wasn’t up for it. I did keep a soft cotton blanket and scarf that were still in good condition though, and put some unworn baby socks and a toy into a donations box. I also found a collection of pieces from a wooden jigsaw puzzle that I possibly threw out last year (since, you know, a bunch of pieces were missing…). Couldn’t remember for sure, though, so I popped them in a bag in our “random stuff” kitchen drawer for now.

Then, once I’d discarded packaging (keeping aside gift boxes that were still presentable) I set up all the gifts I’d found to take a good look at them.


Such. Lovely. Things.

That I could have been using, admiring, and enjoying for six years.

But instead all that thoughtfulness and beauty has been languishing in a dusty old box, forgotten and unloved.

I’m so ashamed.

This is the real pain of the hoarder. The shame of it. The guilt. The embarrassment. The knowledge that mixed in amongst your jumbled mess are items that are useful and/or loved and/or needed, but it’s all inaccessible – and possibly no longer usable – so it’s easier to re-purchase things and try to hide the mess away.

But it’s always there, slowly and inexorably syphoning off your physical, mental, environmental, economic, and emotional resources. Accruing guilt like a high interest loan.

Taking the first step to tackle it is far harder in the moment than putting it off until “tomorrow” again, but I have to say that every step afterwards has been incrementally easier. For the first time in forever (apologies for the earworm to any fellow parents of Frozen fanatics out there) I feel confident that my ideal of a spacious, well-organised house is a possibility. And it’s glorious.

As for these gifts, now, they’ve been lovingly stored in the appropriate places – and will be lovingly used to celebrate our wedding anniversary next week.

And about time too.

The 2nd, 3rd and 4th Boxes

This’ll be a long one, but well worth the read (if you enjoy delving into a stranger’s personal history – which I must assume that you do since you’re already reading this…). Do grab a cuppa and get nice and comfy if you can.

I sat down with a calendar the other day to check where I should be up to with my resolution to clear out at least one box a week. With school starting and the house inspection to deal with I’d let it slide a bit lately.

I should’ve emptied seven boxes by now.

Wait…. what? Really? 2015 is already seven weeks old?!


So at that point I’d gotten rid of four boxes – and only blogged about the first one. Bad Meg! Time to catch up.

I’ve created a Category called “52 Boxes” to gather all these posts under (yep, I finally worked out how to make categories!) and will catch up over the next few days. Once I’m back to where I should be I’ll aim to post about my progress each week on Thursdays. For now…

The 2nd and 3rd Boxes


It was week three by the time I did this so I pulled out two boxes to deal with, one full of random things and the other chock full of party supplies.


What. A. Mess.

This box was given to me after my parents hosted a MASSIVE joint party at the midpoint between both of them turning 60. It was their 120th, and they hosted it at their place.

In October 2010.

The box was full of leftover disposable plates, cups, cutlery and napkins, and everything had been randomly shoved in (including pre-wrapped cutlery sets in napkins) with the box left open.

And it had been stashed like that for four and a half years.

Needless to say, everything open was thrown out – until I came to the cups.


The basic tumblers were yellowed and disgusting, but the wine glasses were made of sturdier plastic and totally still usable after a soak.

It was a dilemma. On the one hand I want to shed a bunch of stuff and learn to be more ruthless about stopping myself from holding onto things “just in case.” But…. I’d already tossed a bunch of stuff and my resolve was well and truly waning.

But I can easily and cheaply buy more of these IF I ever need them! But…. they’re still usable. And not donate-able.

But they’re recyclable! But…. I don’t want to contribute so much to the waste stream (and before you say anything, yes, I know, they’ll be thrown out eventually anyway!).


By this stage the girls had discovered them and started stacking and sorting and offering drinks to their toys. That settled it: I’ll hold onto them for now and use them for games and craft projects, if nothing else.

I used this opportunity to finally designate a proper storage spot for party supplies to minimise the chaos that normally accompanies birthday parties around here. I chose a corner cupboard in the kitchen, next to the plastic storage containers (which I was inspired to sort, cull and organise a few days later).



I also gathered up all the gift bags and boxes I’ve been holding onto to reuse and popped them in there too.


Aw yeah! Bring on the parties! I’ll have that shit sorted this year!

On to the next box.


This one was a random assortment of stuff that had been sitting on a shelf in our old living room. Everything had been packed away dusty but was still mostly pretty good (except for the craft glue that was immediately chucked out). There was a small set of drawers full of sewing supplies; a wire ball/movable sculpture-thingy (that my youngest immediately grabbed to play with); a tiny hat I’d made for a cabaret/punk gig; a gorgeous Asian wooden lion ornament; and…


MOAR CRAFT BOOKS! Just look at all this potential gorgeousness. As an added bonus, I found one of the two books that really set me off down the yarn-crafting path:


I bought this book at a giant second-hand shop many moons ago, when I was a wee gothling who LOVED handmade lace but couldn’t really afford to buy the nice stuff. When I first stumbled upon this book (along with another book of tatting patterns that is still MIA) I was immediately taken by the delicate swirls of knots in such intricate patterns. To me, lace appeals to both my musical and mathematical brain: it is music made physical, with its repeating patterns of activity and rest, but based upon a logical “formula” of stitches strung together in predictable ways.

I haven’t tatted in years – the crochet bug kind of muscled in and took over – but back in the day I tatted doillies and chokers and gloves and embellishments at every opportunity. Such beautiful lace! But so time-consuming and painstaking!

One day I’ll have time for it again…

Speaking of back in the day, check out this little hat:


Not long before I fell pregnant with my first daughter I performed in a band for an amazing nightclub/cabaret event that a friend organised. It was so much fun! He drew on an olde-timey circus aesthetic and enlisted some amazing performers from the local burlesque scene. Then he pulled together a bunch of musician friends to create some new music for the performances.

The main composer was a lady who busked all over the place on piano accordion. Along with her, we had a guy who created drum tracks and played bass guitar, a girl on rhythm guitar, the promoter on lead guitar, and me on keys. The music was a kind of warped, steampunk/industrial/carnival cacophony and was so much fun to perform!

We accompanied a pair of pole dancers, a SUPER talented hula-hooper, and the grand finale with ladies on silks and lira, floating majestically through the air.

It was, in a word, amazing.

But this hat? Now? Dusty, rusty and disgusting.

I’d cobbled it together from a cut up takeaway container held in place with gaff tape, covered with scraps of material hand-sewn into place. Then I’d glued on the ribbon with a hot glue gun and pinned on a beaded jewel with the feather threaded through.

I sewed on a hair comb but it didn’t hold it in place firmly enough, so for the performance I’d had to pin the back of the brim down with bobby pins – which I’d left on the brim, leading to rust marks on the felt.


It was a bedraggled mess of a memento. I have photos to remember that night (which I could never forget anyway!!) and more than enough trinkets in general, so I made the decision to ritually pull it apart and throw it out.

Given how slapdash I’d been when putting it together, it was surprisingly hard to destroy. In the end, none of it was reusable or even in any state to recycle:


…so I said a final goodbye and added it all to the big bag of rubbish from the party supplies.

Once everything else had been cleaned up and put away (the lion into a display cabinet, the sewing supplies into my craft box, the small drawers in the cupboard next to the party supplies until I find a better use for it) I took the rubbish through to the hallway until I could take it out to the bin.



The 4th Box


This one was fairly empty and pretty straightforward.


The spray bottle, rack and pegs were added to the kitchen supplies. The books were added to a donations box. The stack of craft books (ok, this is getting embarrassing now) was added to my almost-overflowing shelf. The rubbish was thrown out.

And then I came to the boots.


2015/02/img_1695.jpg(SO not made for walking!)

They were actually in decent condition. I used to wear the sturdier ones out clubbing quite a lot and could see myself still able to get away with them in winter now. The strappy PVC ones? I barely ever wore them (and only ever to things where I knew I’d be sitting down a lot) – but still don’t want to give them away.

They’re in my cupboard for now. I’m thinking I’ll polish them up and sell them.

Just…. not quite yet, OK?