No, not the books!
I decided it was time to get rid of some clothes.
There were three shirts that don’t fit. I’d been hanging onto them for years, meaning to get on with the diet. There was also one that, with hindsight, had been an error of judgement. Beige with alternating shiny and matt stripes. I’m not yet ready for two-tone beige.
Two pairs of trousers. See diet comments above.
Finally I shoved some ten-year-old vests in a bag marked “For Rags”. They are still quite wearable, but as I find myself exposing my underwear to hospital staff more regularly I’ve decided to upgrade.
It was a toss up between that or cutting them up and composting them (they are 100% cotton so would compost down nicely) but laziness won.
In case you are wondering – yes. Cotton underwear, wool socks and leather/cotton gardening gloves have all gone through my compost bins, never to be seen again.
The theory is that by getting rid of clutter I’m going to have a better life.
The picture shows Julia doing the complicated bit at the clothing bank while I sit in the car. You probably guessed that from the wing mirror.