Clearing

I haven’t even the energy to write my journals.
After 35 years I’m finding it tricky to find the time.
Meditating is eluding me and the little broken toe has made exercise almost impossible.
The space clearing exercise was so profound that the charity shops and book emporiums of Tunbridge Wells have benefited hugely. Today we are minus B’s handmade bed and a beautiful sofa bed.
Gods Gift and I tried for two hours to get it up the stairs into the attic, after holes in the wall, mirrors being dismantled, screws lost and mallet work we decided it was either divorce or getting rid.
We got rid. The attic is now empty save for marks in the carpet from years of heavy objects.
I’m on the rush now into town, and tomorrow and Sunday, so clearing and dumping are done between shifts.
My wretched eye is watering so badly even the bed removal man told me to stop crying
‘Things will settle down’. He said.
‘Out with the old and in with the DFS.’
‘Over my dead body.’ I said.
I hate those adverts, people are skint and yet they’re still trying to flog interest free furniture. I’d rather spend my money on a retreat in Glastonbury and sleep on the floor.
That’s my next blog…..