Well, the clearing-out activities are continuing in Ibbetson Towers.
Stupidly, last week I moved everything out of the loft downstairs and dumped it all in Oliver’s room and Lucy’s room. Next week Lucy is coming to stay in her room and Elise is coming to stay in Oliver’s room, so this afternoon I moved it back, except I didn’t move all of it back. We had some scowling and soul-searching, because we are trying to cleanse our very spirits of all of our life-debris in order to be free and unchained by our piles of junk, I know it is important to do this, I have read about it on the mighty Internet, you can even get lessons about it on the telly. It used to be called tidying up but now it is called decluttering
Anyway, in the end I loaded some of the elderly furniture into the back of my taxi and took it off to the second-hand shop in Kendal.
This felt like a relief really, although I was sad to see it go, but our house is not sufficiently large for us to use half of it, and it has been piled in the loft waiting either for the children to want it or for our house to grow an extra fifty feet. Given that the children most emphatically did not want any of it, and were distinctly uncomplimentary about our furnishing-taste, today I bit the bullet and sent some out into the world in search of a new home where it might be loved and appreciated.
I took some of Mark’s old tyres as well. He has been using these to weight down a sheet of black plastic over an unused compost heap to stop it from growing stinging nettles, which is what happens if he leaves it uncovered, and the National Park Authority has been making threatening noises about it not looking beautiful. I am actually in agreement with them about this, although it has been undeniably useful.
Mark said some uncomplimentary things about the National Park because the alternative is to spray the stinging nettles with weed killer, they are a shocking nuisance if left to roam freely in massive numbers, but the National Park is allowed to do anything it likes even though nobody voted for it, and so whilst we are shedding junk we will get rid of some old tyres.
This turns out to be more complicated than you might think. He has got thirty tyres to get rid of. You cannot get a Tyre Disposal Authority to come out for fewer than a hundred and fifty unwanted tyres.
I asked the Tyre Disposal Authority if I could load the tyres into the back of my taxi and bring them in myself, but to my astonishment they explained that I couldn’t. You have got to have a special licence to carry tyres around. No Tyre-Lugging Permit and you are in jolly trouble, it turns out.
I was completely astounded about this, and wondered how many other mental laws the Government might have brought in whilst we have all been distracted by them going on about President Putin and his wickedly restrictive regime, hurrah for the freedom of democracy.
It is because of the Environment, the lady explained. You are allowed to take them to your local tip, but only four at a time. You can make several visits in a day if you like, but you are only allowed to take four tyres every time.
We have got thirty tyres. That means making eight journeys to the tip, each time with four tyres, instead of shoving all of them in the back of my taxi with the seats folded down, there is just about space, and getting rid of the lot in one go.
Mark took some yesterday and I took some today. I sat in standing traffic in Kendal for forty minutes with the diesel engine running, and was pleased to think that I was doing the right thing for the environment, how splendid to think that I can do the same thing six more times this week.
Hurrah for our beloved leaders and their Environmentally Aware Green Policies.
