This is a stack of books before being taken to the charity shop round the corner. It's not that these are bad books. Far from it. I remember reading Genius at Uni. Inspiring. The thing is that in the new house there's not much room, so things just have to go.

I've had this old fishing box since I was about 9 (or maybe 12!). My interest in fishing fizzled out, and I used it as a tool box. I've got a new tool box now, and I don't need two.

An assortment of things. Swimming trunks that are too small. Shorts that are too short. My brother's skiing hat that he must have worn the second time I went skiing. Was I 10? I was nine the first time I went. The sort of bandanna type things that I used to have to wear when I had really long hair if I didn't want it getting in my eyes.

I've just started to clear out the garage of the house in Trowbridge. Here are two old toys from my childhood. I can't remember which year I was in at St Laurence school when we had to make a model of the Saxon church. We were provided with a cardboard net, but I used Linka to make plaster tiles which I stuck together. I didn't come first, but did well enough to be awarded a Mars bar.
Books like The Mad Motorists were a fixture on the bookshelves in our house. I never read them, but the spine's are very familiar. It's so sad to throw them out, but if I didn't throw things out I'd be living in a heap of junk.