53) Questions and Answers from people who've never been in the house. And those who have.

We have found the sofa - 8 weeks in. We have space to sort stuff. No judgement please.

As word gets out, people kindly ask how I'm getting along. of course, I tailor my reply to whoever asked the question. Those who know are likely to get a bucketful of stresses all tumbling out. Those who are just being polite, have the somewhat reserved reply - 'slowly'.

It is at this moment the replies separate people from those in the know to those without a clue.

The Clueless

1)  'If it were me, I'd just put the lot put in a skip!' 'Calculate each large skip at £369 each, by about 50, plus the manpower to fill the skips - so far me, Ant and my bestie. Currently a Freddy-full is the result of a day's clearing and it feels cathartic to dump it all at the recycling centre at the end of a long day, then go home shower and rest. 

If there was a skip (dumpster), there'd be pressure to fill it asap, before some neighbour thought it fair game to put their own rubbish in it in the dead of  night. Plus we have to sort EVERY bit of paper, as so far, we have no idea if he had any kind of life insurance, savings, shares, bank accounts, premium bonds, pension etc etc. He seemed to be a man of many secrets.

2)  'Just sell it as it is and walk away.' Just because there is lots of junk in there, this doesn't mean there's not a load of good stuff in there too. Also Ant lives there and has the lifetime right to live there.

3) 'I'd just set a match to it.'    F*** Off you bell end.

4) 'If it was me, I'd clear a room at a time...' (Usually said by a man, mansplaining). Have you ever done those little plastic square puzzles you get at Christmas where, in order to move one square to a different place, you have to move 20 squares to do so? Same principle - you can't clear one room as there's nowhere to put the stuff you take out that you need to keep - there really is nowhere. The only way is to just clear bulk from all rooms at the same time - everything which can go - I estimate over two thirds of it - can go out, this gives room to move other stuff about, gradually allowing space to sort and move.

5) 'It must be so difficult and so emotional going through all your dad's stuff.'   Er emotional yes - in that there are a range of emotions, most of which are disbelief, anger and despair. None of them involve tears of grief and reflection.

And those who've been in the house.

• I just never realised the scale of it.
• F****** H*** (followed by stunned silence)
• I know you said he was a hoarder; but this - is something else.' (followed by a rapid exit).
• 'OOohhh you've got your work cut out for you.'
• 'I'd heard it was bad - but this... I don't know what to say.'
• 'OMG - it's EVERY ROOM.' (yes and the garage, attic, greenhouse, shed and coalhouse).
• 'This is going to take you MONTHS.' (more like years).
• 'But surely it's a fire risk.' (tell me something I don't know).
• 'Did you know it was this bad?' - er yes!
• S I L E N C E (clearly in shock).

I tend to now keep myself to myself, keep my answers to a minimum.  My mates follow my Facebook page, which tells them all they need to know.

OK - time to go back to the house.  Wish me luck xx

52) 9th October 2026 - So what have I learned so far.

Ten weeks in - what have I learned so far.? 

On a whim today I ripped off the wallpaper I've always hated. I have great plans for that wall.

So he's been gone about 10 weeks now, and life has been... interesting!

I have found many interesting things at the house, we will deal with them later. 

I spoke to the next door neighbour at the house yesterday, he mentioned how he'd watched the bin men collecting the blue recycling bags that morning. These bags are similar to the Blue Ikea bags, slightly bigger and a bit stronger. We have managed to get the local council to let us have three of these. Looking at the surrounding houses, the bags usually get to be about a quarter to a third full - a few newspapers, junk mail, food wrappers etc. The bags are collected weekly.

The neighbour said the bin men get to the house and look through the bags as they're so heavy, they don't believe there's just paper in there. They check and it is only paper. They then visibly brace to pick the bags up and empty them into the vehicle.

And there's more to come. I'd estimate we're about a third of the way through the total volume of paperwork in the house. Sixty-five years of keeping every bit of paper that has ever come into the house; 

• every newspaper
• every junk leaflet
• every bank statement
• every annual review for life insurance
• every bit of paper from packaging
• every reciept
• every school book anyone ever owned (inc his parents)
• every photograph
• every cereal box
• every envelope
• every payslip
• every bill and invoice
• every monthly utility bill
• every letter ever sent to him
• every Christmas Card
• every birthday card for the whole family
• every life insurance annual update
• every shoebox
• a copy of every letter he ever wrote
• every school report or letter from the school
• every annual report

Our job, myself and Ant is to go through EVERYTHING to sort the needed stuff from the rubbish. We have boxes and boxes of paper queueing up to fill the blue bags. I take these boxes to the recycling centre each time I take a Freddy-full and still there's more. So much more... Sometimes I take a blue bag or two full and drop it outside friend's houses as their collection day is different, this way we have a collection two or three times a week. And yet still there's more. It's the house that never stops giving.

I work three days a week and I'm at the house every other day. I want to keep going before Mr Mojo desserts me. Yesterday I was there for 8.15am, I started by filing Freddie (my car) so he was ready to go. There was an old carpet offcut, 12 unpaired shoes, several old radios, a box of bits of wood, 2 old stuffed toys, a box of rags for recycling, 3 black bags full of rubbish, 18 bits of mouldy plasterboard, and the rest of the space was packed with flattened cardboard boxes.

51) Bear with me - Life has been busy.

 

Since the funeral, and even though I've understood all my life, that one day that house would be down to myself and Ant to sort out, the enormity of the task is still sinking in.

The things we have found are crazy mad. It's a constant surprise in a 'what on earth is in this box?' kind of way.

We have found;

• A large box full of garish, vomit inducing swirly carpet and underlay offcuts from the lounge - laid in 1970. The whole box has been in the living room taking up space since then.
• An envelope full of Fairy liquid advertising posters.
• An envelope full of bits of wax which have fallen off or down the side of candles in mixed colours.
• A box of bits of cut off copper pipe - had been painted so had been used at some point.
• a bag of three new stopcock taps.
• An old engineering manual from 1973 - out of date but with a sheet of 12, King George V, mint stamps.
• A box of bits of metal - pipe bits, brackets, screws, unidentifiable bits.
• several unopened and well out of date full tins of roses/heroes/quality street.
• A huge number of single shoes - never worn and with their partners missing.
• An old Austin car Haynes manual - with a whole sheet of  200 stamps. 1/2p value so £1 total.
• Odd pairs of new shoes in boxes and bags, so old they split when bent.
• Half drunk bottles of Rum and Brandy and Sherry which had to be poured down the sink.
• A tin of what once were peaches, black stuff has oozed out somehow and adhered the tin to the shelf. Once free, the tin weighed virtually nothing. I don't know where the peaches went.
• A gorgeous old hardbacked and illustrated Peter Pan book.
• Two green flamenco dresses age 8 and 10, clearly meant for my daughters 14 years ago.
• A small pair of boy's dungarees aged 18m - probably bought or my son, now aged 23.
• A teddy bear - squished flat and covered in years of dust, under 2 heavy boxes.
• A crisp multipack bag full of empty and flattened crisp packets - all laid neatly on top of each other.
• Another carpet, used, beige, about 6ft x 5ft, rolled up behind the sofa. Due to this, the sofa spent its life three feet further forward than it should have done for 15 years, making the room 3ft smaller.
• Seven tins of Heinz tomato soup, all covered in black sticky stuff stuck to the shelf. One was hissing at me so it went in the garden until I deem the explosion risk low enough to transport it to the tip.
• A box full of wires and old shoes. A lovely mix.
• A shoe (sandal) squashed so flat it was impossible to tell it was a shoe from the side.
• 1000 Lira note (about £5)?
• Lots of 1p and 2p pieces - sadly no £50 notes yet.
• An old His Master's Voice Shell type gramophone speaker - we knew that was there.
• A pair of original 1960s house windows, hidden behind a tallboy in the bedroom.
• 2 2.5ft speakers which dad made. The same sound can be had from a device the size of a seedling flowerpot today.
• A huge box, from an old cathode ray (box type) TV. Full of the polystyrene originally used for its packaging. The box took an enormous amount of living space for 25 years or more.
• My late mother's sewing machine - which I had asked him many times if I could have the year after she passed away and he said he would look for it. Well, it has taken over 2 months to find but I have it and it was only about 2 feet from her side of the bed.
• A box of 6 beautiful bottle green wine glasses in their original box. 3 had their bases snapped off - I've saved the other 3. 
• A bakerlite original telephone, a bit tatty but cute.

The thing is when I show these items to friends, the almost unanimous reaction is 'oooohhhhh I bet thats worth a bit!' 

So hear this. Its almost NEVER worth a bit. Not a big bit anyway. 

Once you've factored in finding someone who's genuinely interested and knows the value of said thing. Where do I look? 

One has to remember an item is only worth what someone is prepeared to pay. I then have to find a buyer. I have no platform other than perhaps Ebay or similar, so I need to know how to describe the item when half the time I dont even know what it is. 

A number of times it's been suggested I go to the Antiques Roadshow or the company who go round the UK buying vintage stuff. 

I did go to one of these.

I took a Steiff bear which belonged to my grandfather (1899 - 1986), two bronze and very heavy small bronze cherub statues, 2 silver plated christening bracelets, 4 pairs of vintage earrings belonging to my grandmother, a map printed on cloth dated 1905 of Cardiff, a silver plated vase and ornate teapot, an old antique clock, an old watch and the above telephone. I took a day off work for the event which was 9 miles from home.  I drove there, lugged the heavy box into the buliding, sat down and waited an hour and 5 minutes. I showed everything with a brief history and lined it all up on the table. She assessed the items, it took her about 20 seconds. She offered...

£20 for the lot.

I looked at her. She looked at me.

'Really?' I asked.

'We sell them to TV companies for background props' she said. 'So if you think they're valuable perhaps take them to a dealer or try Ebay. 

Catching my grandad's bear's eye as he lay on the table looking upset and abandoned, I instinctively picked him up and put him in my bag. 'He's not going anywhere.' I said. 'No I can't take that.' I packed the lot.up and lugged it home again.

A day off totally wasted.

But at least I kept the bear.

50) The funeral part 2 - the memorial service.

 Friday September 4th 10:30

Today was the 2nd part of dad's farewell/memorial/funeral, (the cremation was done 3 weeks ago).  This was a rather more light hearted affair at the church he'd attended regularly since it was built in about 1965.

The cremated remains were on a table in a casket at the front of the church where the coffin would have been, had it had been a traditional funeral.

The vicar gave an absolutely perfect service - with the eulogy I sent him woven into it. He didn't make dad out to be someone he wasn't and we were grateful for that.

'He was a great collector - a collector of Stuff... Lots and LOTS of stuff.'  There was a light-hearted giggle from the congregation. 'He leaves a legacy which Izabelle and Ant will remember him by for a very long time.' that got a smirk and a few giggles from the congregation.

I am definitely convinced we did this funeral the right way for our family. Funeral Directors are seeing more and more bespoke type funerals these days. 

The traditional church funeral where the coffin is wheeled into the church in front of friends and family and the service is done with the deceased in the room. A dead body, in a box, right there in front of everyone.

If you're like me, your thoughts are just that - 'Erm, there's a dead body in that wooden box there,' I keep glancing at it. I don't really know what I expect may happen but it is unsettling. Sometimes there are other clues that a person who is no longer living is in the room - sometimes, especially if the temperature is a little on the warm side, nature takes hold and odours get out. This is at best unpleasant. The funeral directors do their best - often the person is wrapped in waterproof body bags where necessary and there are absorbent crystals which can be put in the coffin to prevent - er - leakage.

At the end of the funeral service, the coffin is whisked back out and loaded onto the back of a Hearse and half the people, including close family, swan off in a stretch Limo and a swarm of family saloons up to the crematorium leaving other friends and family, who may have driven miles and miles to be there to support the living family members alone at the church with nobody to talk to.

At the crematorium, the same happens again. The coffin is wheeled in and placed on a catafalque which is a raised platform. The coffin stays there all through the second service, which is usually shorter than the church service but similar. As the service ends, dependent on family choice, the curtain is either left open until the family have all filtered past and out into the wild blue yonder or it's closed atmospherically slowly. This is the part I loose all my composure and howl like a baby.

All this costs - a lot.  By the time you have added the funeral director fees, transport of the deceased, a coffin, the preparation and storage of the deceased, a hearse, a limousine or two, the minister or celebrant or humanist, the hire of the church and the crematorium, the funeral staff, the cremation fee and the flowers, you're looking at the best part of £6000 upwards these days. Burials are not that different as far as cost goes, because instead of the cremation fee, you have to buy the burial plot and pay for it to be dug and prepared. Then there's the headstone - solid marble, plus the engraving and installation - it's going to cost a fair bit.

So people are looking for options. It's difficult. Life is expensive right now, and death is even more so. Life is hard and when you're going through all the aftermath of a bereavement which you have little choice about, to be frank, you just don't need all that as well.

And social pressure makes people feel guilty about not being able to keep up with the Joneses.

Let the Joneses do it their way, I say. You do it YOUR way. Every single family is different and there are many options these days. It's a little bit sneaky too because some people don't like to talk about death and dying and funerals and to some extent, that becomes the advantage of the funeral companies because they know it and they play on it.

The simplest and most cost effective way is the Direct Cremation. this is where the deceased is taken to the crematorium in a simple coffin, with no family present, the cremation is done and the ashes are ready for the family to have back after a few days. 

The ashes are returned to the family by default in a simple Eco Box, this is a box, about the size of a shoe box, made of a cardboard covered in a muted colour, often  bearing the name of the crematorium. The deceased person's name, cremation reference and date of cremation is also put on the outside. Inside the box, the ashes are usually inside a further, inner bag, often made of paper.

For the cremated remains, scatter tubes of various designs are available to purchase for between £25 and £30 for an adult size. These are large tubes, made of sturdy cardboard with various choices of different designs on the outside, such as flowers, hobbies or nature scenes. The funeral director can put the ashes into the scatter tube container for you and seal it. These tubes, providing they are kept dry, can be kept at home for as long as necessary, until the time is right for the ashes to be scattered. When the time comes, the lid is taken off and inside is a perforated disc which needs to be pushed through and the tube can then be passed around as required and the ashes scattered.

Or if it's more your thing, the ashes can be put and kept in an urn on the mantlepiece.

Sometimes the funeral director is able to keep ashes until the spouse of the deceased also passes and the ashes can then either be mixed together to be scattered or interred.

So, things to think about to keep costs low.

1) Have a direct cremation - despite these being advertised on the tv everywhere, they are usually also available from your local funeral director. The advantage is your passed person will usually stay in your part of the country and as a result, often be back with you sooner. - Points to remember there is NO ATTENDANCE AT ALL. Often the funeral company will not be able to tell you when or where the cremation will be done - if they have access to a few different crematoriums, your passed person could potentially be sent to any of them (they're all regulated). They don't want to tell you when as they don't want people turning up at the crematorium, 'to pay our respects' as there is nowhere for these people to go. No crematorium chapel will be booked. No attendance means just that, none at all, not even the nearest and dearest. Nobody. Sit at home and think about your passed person instead, raise a glass, walk the dog, sit on a mountain, whatever it takes.

2) Bespoke Direct Cremation. This may or may not be an option in your area - ask around. You still have the direct cremation as above, but you're able to pay a little extra for the facility to view your passed person before the cremation. (the charge is made because the deceased has to be taken into the funeral home chapel of rest, which takes time and staff).You may be able to choose what they wear to their checking out event. You may be able to pay extra to ensure they are taken to the crematorium of your choice. Ask about options.

3) A backwards funeral. You have a direct cremation for your passed person and have the ashes back. The ashes can be placed into a casket or a scatter tube or stay in the Eco Box. In the UK a casket is like a mini coffin, but more of a rectangle shape, again about the size of a shoebox. It's for the cremated remains. You can have this casket at a celebration of life kind of service wherever it suits - a church with a minister, a hired venue, top of a mountain, by the sea, down the local. You do you and Celebrate your passed person's life your (their) way. You could do the scattering at the end (check with the landowner if this is allowed first). You save a lot and it may be the last thing your passed person would have wanted anyway. You can choose a minister, a humanist, a celebrant - whatever suits YOUR family. The funeral director will be able to point out the right one for YOU. Some folk want a bit of humour, some don't. Whatever sails your ship.

Remember, lots of folk don't want a traditional send off. They don't want a funeral and everyone being a red-eyed, snotty mess. They want their life celebrated. Also some of them genuinely want their loved ones not to have to take out a second mortgage to pay for their send off. It's just one day. A funeral is lots of faff, fuss and stressful anyway. There's really no need. Remember them in other ways. Have a mood board at the bash with photos of them doing goofy things. Remember them as they were and as they would want to be remembered. Nobody should be judging you about your choices for your family. Do what's best for you.

I did what was best for me (but a few rules were bent as I work for a funeral company). I had a direct cremation for dad but I was able to walk him in through the chapel while my choice of tune played (dad's favourite - Jesu joy of man's desiring). At the end of the song, the funeral director asked me if I would like a moment. I stood there alone, with one hand on the coffin, said a few words, turned and left. Five minutes start to finish. Just me there... and dad.

49) In between funerals, neighbours and discoveries

                                                                    Mum's wedding ring

I've recovered from dad's cremation fairly quickly, although I still have episodes of tears should someone unexpectedly take me aside and ask, genuinely, if I'm OK. My immediate reaction is 'Don't be nice to me...' followed by a flood of tears, which is, with hindsight a bit rude, although those who know me get it and it's all OK.

We had the ashes returned from the crematorium on Monday and I've put him on a shelf for the time being. He'll be put in a casket before the memorial service in a couple of weeks.

I've been going to Ant's house (feels weird calling it that), every other day as I have to keep going and not loose momentum here.  The task is ENORMOUS and I'm the only one driving it forward.

Ant means well and he has a heart of gold, but he's never been taught how to clean or tidy or de-clutter. He just doesn't know how. His learning difficulties mean he doesn't retain things. If I see a pile of papers at the far end of a room, I'll climb over to get them. I pick up a few at a time as this involves much reaching over many unstable piles of stuff, lifting and leaning. I will ask Ant to take a pile from me as I lean precariously on one leg holding a heavy pile of papers for him to take from me. He hesitates as if he's waiting to be presented with them or they're going to bite him, meanwhile my back is about to give out. He finally takes the papers and I turn back to get more. I turn back to pass the papers to him and he is still standing there with the original pile I just gave him in his arms. He needs to be told to put the first pile down and he needs to be told where to put them (there's nowhere to put anything yet). As I turn to pass  him the second pile, I find him still standing with the first pile in his arms. After the 2nd pile, he's wandered off, bored. I later find all the piles in different places so I have to clear them again.

I've found Ant is best at level one clearing - I take a box (there are thousands) and Ant will go through it, taking out all the stuff like newspapers, cereal boxes, old magazines and junk mail. He then filters out the stuff with names and addresses which he keeps in a box for me to take home and sort.

I went to the house with Ant last week after work. The intention was to do a few boxes and leave. The first box was full of the usual junk - mainly letters, newspapers and the odd bit of rubbish and bits in the bottom - paperclips, dust, odd screws, old stamps, a few scrunched up receipts, some crumbs, a few dried peas and an old cork. As I sifted the  remnants of the box, I found a folded brown window envelope. I unfolded it to check, often there's a £5 or a book of old stamps inside. A note written on the outside 'wedding ring for family of ... To be returned to family.' As I opened it, two pieces fell out, both parts of my late mother's wedding ring which had been cut off and given to the family. Dad had put it in an old box. Why he put it there, how he thought he would ever find it again and what he was going to do with it are anyone's guess. 

We've advised Ant to keep going to his workplace for the sake of  his sanity. His workplace is 17miles from home and he has to take three busses there and three busses back. He attends three times a week. He doesn't get paid. he works at a community centre for the disabled. He has to pay to go there.

Ant's working day is therefore made up of a few hours of travel, 2 hours of work and a few hours back. It makes him happy and he has friends there.

When I go to the house to do some tidying, Ant gets very tired of it very quickly.  After about an hour, I'm just getting started and he is ready for a cup of tea/a break/lunch. He says things like 'We've done a good day's work today,' 'we should be proud of ourselves,' I'm worn out,'  'I've been up since 5.30,' 'we need a break,' I won't mind if you want to call it a day now.'

It's SO much easier faster and more productive if I go when Ant is at work because I'm alone in the house for many hours.

I've had many offers of help and I've had actual help. Julie, Andrea and Jane - amazing people, what can I say. Thank you - really I am SO very grateful. Yesterday we had clouds and a light breeze for the first time in a very long time and so we started on the garden which is starting to look abandoned. The garden is very important if we want to keep the neighbours happy and stop the place looking derelect and attracting the wrong sort...

Andrea and I got sorted with clippers and a green bin. We worked hard. By the end of three hours solid we'd filled three green bins with gardening waste, mainly brambles and shrub clippings. Two of the neighbours allowed us to use their bins. After we'd finished it hardly looked any different :(

We have to wait now for the bins to be emptied so we can do more.

47) When life gives you lemons - it'll probably give you even more lemons.

                                                                            Before

After

                                                        At the recycling centre

 Saturday 8th August 2026.  We decided to tackle a bit of the garage today. The strategy was that if we could get that clear then we would have somewhere to put things from the house that we may need to get out of the way during the big clear which me may want to sell or donate.  The issue being that currently if we pull something out from the hoard which needs to be kept, there is still nowhere to put it other than on top of another pile - this becomes counter-productive as we have to move the same things again and again. 

We opened the garage and it was so full, there was a mini avalanche of dust and stuff. We shut the door again. We swore. Should we just go to the pub instead? No. It was 10 O'clock on a Saturday morning. We decided to crack on.

We dragged a ton of stuff out and found an old valve type radio, a newspaper from the day after King George V funeral. A few bundles of Children's Encyclopaedia magazines, which, it turns out, makes a lovely mouse nest, a christening card from my own funeral, a vomit inducing piece of 1960's carpet and lots of bits of wood, plasterboard, metal and more mouse nests.

We stuffed the car full the poor thing was creaking. We managed to close the boot and off we went. 

I live in a mountainous area and our local recycling centre is on a very steep hill. Saturday is a very silly time to go to the council tip, because everyone goes there on a Saturday. We got in the queue and after 59 minutes, we were at the front. Just as we were being called up, my partner put his foot on the clutch to take off and BANG it  hit the floor. Clutch gone, very expensive and very embarrassing. we managed to get it to the side. 

Fair play to the workers, they coned us off and directed everything around us. We rang the RAC. After listening to various stupid and irrelevant messages we got through to an actual person (I know!). We told person that my partner was diabetic and we had broken down miles from a shop or food source and he had eaten his emergency rations and was getting hungry. Please could they be quick. Three more calls and three hours later they arrived.  The man had a look and declared it 'BROKE'. He said he couldn't tow it as it was a 4x4 so he would call the tow truck... it may be some time. He did offer my partner his own sandwiches, bless him.

The site closed at 5 and at 4.30 the RAC was sending texts saying they would be there between 3-5. At 4.30 this changed to between 8 and 11 that night.  This was for an emergency. The last time I spoke to them to explain our situation as partner was getting low on blood sugar ,despite the sandwiches, low on patience and extremely arsey. I said it could turn into an emergency as he was diabetic and we had no food and, helpfully, he said if it was a medical emergency, I should call the emergency services. Well I'd never have thought of doing that if he hadn't said. Helpful chap.

We ended up leaving the car at the site overnight and it was collected the following day - Sunday.

Sunday was the day I was going to church for the first time in many years. It was dad's church and I wanted to get all the 'sorry to hear about your dad' comments out of the way before the funeral. I was also going to meet the Vicar at the funeral home afterwards so he could give dad the prayers of committal. I was expecting to go alone, knowing my partner never liked my dad and not expecting any support from him. However my daughters offered to come with me and were a great support.

We got through it between us. Dad's been given his committal prayer so has his passport and ticket and is ready for the onwards journey now.

46) My new life, challenges and little rays of sunshine. Welcome to my life.

                                                                       A box of odd shoes

It's been three weeks today since dad passed away and I've been busy.

I have been round to the house - the mountain, almost every day. I go at the weekends and I go after work. I fill my car up and when Freddie is full, I take everything to the local recycling centre.

In Cardiff we are only allowed 26 visits to the recycling centre every year. For those not familiar, a recycling centre is the council tip where you are expected to put as much into recycling as possible and the remainder can go in a skip for landfill. Nobody wants to put everything in landfill and so people try really hard to comply. 

There are separate skips (dumpsters) for wood, metal, small electricals, carpets and bed quilts, hard plastics, paint, paper, books, clothes (wearable), garden waste, bottles, cardboard, batteries, oil, fridges and freezers, televisions and probably a few I have forgotten about. Not every recycling centre has skips for all things - car tyres and plasterboard are banned at our local one.

The thing is there are many things in this particular house that I don't know what to do with. So far I have found 37 odd shoes in ONE ROOM. Most of these shoes have no wear at all on the sole, suggesting they may well have been new and never worn. Now however, they could be anything up to 40 years old. Two were partnered up so they can maybe go to charity. However, I have no idea how long they have been there - some of the shoes split the top from the sole the minute I bend tested them. Sadly those have to go to landfill.  Even though they are some vile sort of open toe men's sandal, I'm sure there are SOME men out there who would wear them. So should I take them to the charity shop?

Ant has started getting nervous if I throw anything out, saying he could have them to wear. I know Ant is almost 60, but I don't think wearing things the wrong size, and the style of a 95 year old who never had any fashion sense to start with. Ant has said this about shoes, jackets, sweaters, anything and everything. I have started going round while he's out.

There are 4 televisions - the old huge box type ones in the house. I eyed one with a view to flinging it out. 'That's brand new.' said Ant.

'But you cant get them to work on a modern TV system,' I said - the new ones are all digital.'

'You can use them with a Digibox.' said Ant, confidently.

'But you can't buy a Digibox any more can you?' I asked him, getting a little frustrated but trying not to let it show.

'No.' he agreed. 'But I have three spare ones, and that TV is brand new.'

Ant's definition of 'Brand New' is clearly far removed from my own.

I gave up for the time being. I never anticipated Ant to have issues getting rid of stuff. However, to keep the peace, I've told him many times I won't throw anything out he wants to keep.

I moved on and picked up an old chocolate wrapper and a satsuma net bag from the top of a pile. 'Ant, Where's the bin-bin?' I've started calling the general waste (non recyclables) bin the bin-bin - as opposed to the paper bin or the plastics bin or the garden bin or the glass bin.'

'Errrrrrr.'

'Ant, you know t- he bin where you put normal rubbish that you can't recycle. You know - the BIN bin.'

Ant reverted to his generic reply when he doesn't know what he is expected to say, 'Errrr - I don't know really.'

'Ant!, Where do you put like plastic wrappers and sweet paper and old tissues and bits of string and that sort of stuff?'

'Erm, I don't know.'

'Ant, are you telling me you and dad never had a bin? Like a bin to put rubbish in...?'

'Errrrrr no. I don't think so.'

I realised he was probably right. They never threw anything out. Any tissues or paper would go in the open fire in the living room, anything else just got put between a box or in a bag and put in some nook or cranny. The black bin was NEVER put out. I located the black bin about 3 months ago - there were two of them, a large one and a newer smaller one. The larger one wasn't a current issue and he should have returned it to the council. Both bins were full of wood pieces, I assume for the fire.

I found an old bucket by the fire and explained to Ant how we'd use it as a bin.