Toys upon toys upon toys. That’s what our house is like. Blocks and bricks and cars and dolls and puzzles and pushchairs and fishing nets and musical boxes and multiple tea sets. And then there are the books. Baby books, bath books, big girl books, Trulove’s (boring) books, my (brilliant) books, recipe books, novels, atlases, books from college that we just can’t bring ourselves to admit we probably wouldn’t even understand if we tried to read them again.
And that’s before we get started on the assorted knick-knacks, miscellany and countless containers in which to burn candles.
I like talking about toys. I like being able to say, ‘the door’s fallen off the fairy boot again’ and for it to make complete sense. I secretly enjoy being a bit vague about which kitchen I mean when I say ‘put the banana in the kitchen’ and then later finding a little hoard of plastic fruit and vegetables in the plates cupboard. The actual eating-off plates cupboard, I mean. I like the fact that three other people know that saying ‘I can’t find Kitty’ is essentially declaring a state of emergency (well, maybe two other people, though surely Pickle is sensitive to tone of voice and general panicky aura?). One of my oldest friends, Jumpy, owns a toyshop so I guess she gets to say things like ‘The Beanie Boos are looking a bit sparse’professionally.
So as it’s spring I think we need an enormous clear out of toys and books and candle holders. Please let me know if you’re in need of a virulent green and orange cushitush or a book called ‘Pylons.’ This last is not about Pylons of the large electrocuting variety but visitors always think it is and my favourite joke is to say that it’s less interesting than a book about those kind of pylons would be as it’s a kind of computer programming. Not a very good joke, admittedly. Now I’ve convinced myself I should write a book about those pylons – I could travel the country taking photos of the different kinds. There must already be one. I digress again.
Trulove did a brilliant sort out and tidy up the other week (and discovered that ‘girly crap and finger puppets’ is actually a very useful storage category), but we’ve had a birthday since then so we are again overflowing. I sorted out the understairs cupboard recently and it’s so tidy I keep showing my friends when they come round (I think they know me well enough to realise this is because I’m so surprised at my own efficiency, not because I’ve been replaced with a particularly fat robot.). We’ve inherited a new sofa with a large gap underneath so that’s doing a good job of hiding some of the crap. We’ve managed to smuggle out a few cuddlies under cover of darkness. Really, though, we have Too Much Stuff.
So, it’s with a heavy heart that I admit the time has come to bid adieu to, among others, Old Icelandic: An Introductory Course. Any offers?