Moving on..

Another day of shredding and shedding. I can't quite believe how much old paperwork I have been hoarding in the innocent-looking white boxes I bought from Ikea. At the time (5 years ago) I thought it was a cool plan to file everything away in these boxes, and they look pretty good stacked up in my Study. But, and it's a big but, they were simply hiding the real problem - why couldn't I get rid of all the rubbish?
Selling Son's flat has proved to be the catalyst for a huge clearout. Once I started emptying files and shredding paper, I just couldn't stop. I'm now on green poly sack number three, and nowhere near finished. I'm not just shedding paper weight am I? No, there's a lot of emotional junk being shifted along with the physical junk. I'm space-clearing I guess, to give it a Feng-Shui label. But it feels very good, whatever you call it.

The other good thing about all this paper shuffling is that I've re-discovered all my writing, which has been hidden away in the afore-mentioned boxes. It was, I suppose, convenient to tuck it all away, especially when Daughter and Grandson erupted into my life three and a half years ago. I tried manfully (or womanfully) to keep going with the book I had started, but the impact of a four-month old Grandson and a Daughter who'd been dumped by her partner (in fact he had completely disappeared one night, and didn't reappear for a year!!) was an implacable force. They had to move in with me (they had nowhere else to go) and he had left Daughter with a four thousand pound debt to go with the baby. Nice! For a while, my dining room was full of boxes and black plastic sacks, stacked four feet high. Daughter was completely shattered by the whole experience, and Grandson was a delight. The little darling ate and slept and smiled through it all. And eventually Daughter and I caught up with him. And here we are, much later, having survived and moved on. It's amazing what you can get through isn't it?

Anyway, I digress. I've re-discovered my book, and am quite determined to start writing again. Three cheers. Let's see if I can do it.

How are my family, you may wonder? Well Daughter and Grandson are settling in nicely with the Boyfriend, and Grandson starts his new Nursery School tomorrow. They are coming down for the day on Thursday, for my Birthday, which will be lovely. Son is still (I assume) getting on with buying the flat in London. I haven't heard much about it, but hope I will see him and maybe the Girlfriend at the weekend. It's strange to be semi-separated from them after so long being intimately connected. I guess I was very lucky to have them so close for so long.

So, M. French President Sarkozy has married his model. How cute! Apparently he is very short, or should I say vertically challenged. And she is probably quite tall. I'm sure he makes up for this in other ways though.

Post Script (which I should send to my Aristocratic BF, because it concerns a Mobility Scooter, which she says she can't wait to have): I read in the Guardian on-line that a poor woman had been knocked down by a hit-and-run Mobility Scooter!! She is eighty-something, and in hospital with broken bones. Apparently the driver of said scooter ran her down, saying that he didn't have time to stop, he was in a hurry! Dear God, whatever next...