Clearing the decks

When we moved to this house, it was still packed to the gunwales with the previous owner's crap. The sale had been a particularly emotional affair. My father and R's uncle both died within two days of us exchanging contracts, and the evil witch from whom we bought the house had not actually moved out on the day of completion, leaving us temporarily homeless. Even when we finally got rid of her, we were left with literally tons of junk to remove. It took us a few weeks to clear the house, grounds and barns, but it was a very cathartic process - every yard of ground or floor space gained was a small triumph. We also had some monumental bonfires, and would stand around watching the flames, beer in hand and congratulate ourselves on the day's hard-won results.

Having spent so much time clearing the place, we were very conscious of not wanting to clutter it up again and, for a year or so at least, the accusation of 'being like Barbara' was sufficient to prevent most unconsidered purchases. As the years passed, though, the memory became less acute, and more 'stuff' accumulated. The curse of having lots of space is that the tendency is to fill it up, thus rendering the space unusable.

This was very much evident in the barn. What used to be space for keeping animals is now full of junk. I can't even blame R for much of it, but what it all has in common is that it needs to go before the barn can be used again for its intended purpose. My dear friend C has been helping me to clear it. Over the course of two afternoons we have mostly emptied the two loose boxes, arguing and negotiating over what was to be kept, thrown away, freecycled or possibly even sold. As we slowly worked our way through the accretions, it became evident that a choice would have to be made between a bonfire and a second trip to the tip.
Naturally the bonfire won!