The urge to purge

The urge to purge – Sort your life out

The Head Gardener has of late had the urge to purge. This realisation is something that has crept up on me but this morning came as a bolt of reality. She has apparently been watching a programme on the telly called “Sort your life out” and decided that this is indeed what she/”we” are going to do.

It began with the storeroom where lots of old Joefest/Beyond The Woods Festival gear is stored and is why you may have noticed me offering stuff free of charge to a good cause. That is work in progress – very much still ongoing. Needs doing though.

Then the camping trailer needs emptying and flogging. It was very useful when our family holidays involved weeks under canvas at the British seaside but not so much so now that our preference is country cottages and five star hotels. The trailer also takes up space in the front drive and needs to go.

Then the garage desperately needs doing. I did half a job last year but needs a day or two of sunshine where I can empty it to the front, chuck the stuff deemed appropriate for a purge and stick the rest back tidily, for a while.

In the process of doing the garage I also need to sell the very high quality bike rack that I bought to go with the Land Rover Defender but never used. Ah well.

Finally, and this is what brought on the realisation that I was caught up in a THG urge to purge, I have some glazed window panes at the bottom of the garden that need something doing with. They were kept by me because they featured the old stained glass that was a feature of the house before we put in new double glazing. I guess they are going to the tip, sigh. They gotta go.

A lot of “need” there. It doesn’t do us any harm to periodically purge although I will say that in our house once space has been made it has a tendency to fill up again, rapidly. Purge is not a bad thing. Like cutting back foliage ready for new spring growth.

Moving on. Having said yesterday I wasn’t ready to wear them yet, I am this morning in a pair of short trousers. The walk to the shed was somewhat fresher than the weather forecast suggested and now that I am here early and up and at it I’ve taken the liberty of switching on the heating, but shorts it is. Feels goooood. 🙂

I have other things to get on with as the day progresses. One is putting a notice up on the website telling people that our campervans are being put up for sale in April. We have already had two enquiries since we announced we were closing the business so figured it would be a good thing to do.

Am also going for a swim this pee em. Don’t get enough exercise. Having a week of being sensible before we head off to the island.

Disappearing into my headphones. THG has disappeared to a shop to pick up some groceries and the TV has in the meantime been switched off. Rendered inactive. Not inoperable but not operating. The flicking of the switch was occasioned so that I did not have to subject my senses to an offending programme. We are on the second such programme in two hours. I survived the first by donning my headphones and burying myself in my laptop computer. I only, mostly, watch documentaries. A narrow range from which to select a programme to watch especially as I have watched most of what I want to see on the channels available to me. I don’t consider it worth spending money to procure more channels where I will inevitably end up not finding anything I like to watch. I need to find a hobby. Something engrossing and time consuming such as 5,000 piece jigsaws or building scale models of historic ships, or tractors, or anything really. Maybe stamp collecting or furniture making or flower pressing or painting or tailoring or welding or playing the piano or glamour photography or collecting early Shakespeare folios or knitting or playing poker or going to Spanish language evening classes or mechanics for beginners or bricklaying. Anything really. I do have a watercolour painting set I purchaysed during one of the covid lockdowns but the box has never been opened. Maybe twenty twenty four is the year. I am healthily tired having done some stretching exercises at home and then going for a swim at Yarborough Leisure Centre where I am a member. It is however too early to hit the hay. There are no books I particularly want to re read. On occasions such as this I often search on line for new books to purchase and I may yet do so. The last two I ordered have not yet arrived, including “Droppings, Dungs and Scats of South Africa” which I am given to understand was being reprinted at the beginning of March. Patience is demanded in this case. I have been scouring tinterweb to titles covering early Welsh religious history and anything covering the lifestyle of Welsh farming communities in the eighteenth century but not yet found the right ones. I already have a few religious tomes. They interest me from a historical perspective. Last year I bought Hugh Skillen’s trilogy: Spies of the Airwaves, Knowledge strengthens the Arm and  Enigma and its Achilles Heel. History of the Allied wireless intelligence sections during World War Two. One of the books has tippexed corrections by the author. V cool. V interesting.

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