Thursday, 17 May 2012

The Hoard of The Flying Knives.

Progress is a terrifying thing.

Especially in a hoarded house since things get way worse before they get better. Clearing can be a bit like going bananas in a forest with a chainsaw. You do flatten the trees but the chances are high that the trees will be equally as successful at flattening YOU.

Flashback to the conversation that started it:
Major Dragon: ..."and it is only 50 pounds, so what do you think?"
Secret Dragon: "yeah, if you want" thoughtcloud above head: "what was 50 pounds? Oh hell, what did I just agree to?"
MD: "great! Then you can get rid of that horrible office chair"
SD reflex response: "and that knackered computer table"
MD: "yes"
I mean, you ALL know how she feels about tables.
Stupidly after the initial panic I just rolled with it. To discover that MD was replacing my beat up faux leather office chair (that I brought in as MY chair and refused to part with as there was no room for me on the couch) with a new swish one a workmate was getting rid of. At speed. At such speed it arrived on the doorstep before I had even figured out a space for it. We ended up half an hour before the chair landed trying to ensure the front door could even open wide enough to allow my new swish seat to enter. (yes, mine. She thinks we will share it but the couch is her dance space. My Swayze face of Steel says so)

The chair duly trundled in and squeeeeezed into the hall. And spent the evening there being sidled around. But alas. The trees were waiting after my chainsaw massacre style tidy. I carried my teapot past the chair and got caught. The chair bounced off me, the front door and then off me again knocking me into a large shelving unit.

And the trees fell.

Or rather a fish tank lid, complete with bulb and flying cables, a plastic poncho, a metal pot lid holder, a copy of Attitude magazine with a naked man on the front and what felt like 3 tons of polystyrene shot off the top of the shelves and launched themselves on to my head. And of course since I was jammed between chair and shelves there was to be no leaping to safety. Also rooting me to the spot was pure terror. On the shelf behind my shoulders was a box of old kitchen knives waiting to be disposed of, and I could feel something cold and metal against my neck...

So I stood there. While Major Dragon grumpily hauled herself to her feet for the slowest rescue ever grumbling the whole way. It was like being rescued by Pratchett's Foul Ole Ron. She opened the living room door and was distinctly underwhelmed to find me standing in the middle of a scene of carnage with a large fish tank lid and an equally as large knife balanced on my shoulders. And still clutching my teapot.

I suppose it says far too much about me that the first thing I did was hand the teapot over to be put down somewhere safe, doesn't it? SAVE THE TEAPOT, IT IS MY ONLY HOPE. I won't even pretend it was the almighty thump to the head.

And really, I am glad I did. I definitely needed restorative cup after phase two of the Get the Chair Into A Room Operation. While balancing the chair over our heads in a bid to fit its padded majesty through the not so large living room doorway we ended up next to the shelving unit again. And the knives were still angry at being disturbed from their peaceful slumber.

Let us just say, I don't think I will need to cut my toenails for a while.

I think I may spend the rest of the week telling myself that the mild concussion, limp and large leather chair means I can do a brilliant Bond Baddie impersonation.

PS. I feel I should apologise to the poor soul while searching google for the "hidden hoard of hotness" wound up here instead. I suspect these were really NOT the droids ladies you were looking for.

Monday, 7 May 2012

What’s New Pussycat?


A blogpost is possibly percolating about hoarders in the media, possibly focusing on the UK media since awareness of hoarding is only really getting started here in the mainstream but I would like to see a bit more of The Hoarder Next Door and have a good think first. ( CHAnGE are wanting to read and discuss that I know.) I have been taking notes and everything. I don’t know who I am any more. Whatever happened to watching mindless tv while dribbling slightly and eating chocolate?  I am worried Readers, very worried. Also, I am out of chocolate.  It just isn’t right. 

If you have an opinion, article etc. to share with me on that please do. I try to google about and find stuff but word of mouth is always more effective for these things. 

An update on the Hoard of The Dragons. Hold on to your hats and anything else you treasure. 


Oh yes. Even more shocking? Minimal argument. There was a bit of whimpering over cardboard boxes but it was easily dealt with.  I am not sure what happened there. I think I might blame clutter hating aliens. Welcome Visitors From Another Planet. I worship you muchly and make you an offering of binbags.

So where did this car full of cardboard boxes, paper, bedding, towels, pet food the cat yacks on the 10 inches of free carpet if she so much as looks at it and an old duvet* go? To the cat and dog home! 

Which is kind of perfect for the items you don’t think are good enough for a charity shop but still feel guilty about throwing out.  The major difficulty for Major Dragon is the “but there is nothing wrong with it!” yell that catapults out of her mouth when something floats too close to a binbag. (She also has the “I paid good money for that!” yell but that might be another blogpost with extra swearing. If anyone has any good tips on how to handle that one I am all ears.) But at the same time she hates the item and has already replaced it anyway. At least twice.

I could have hugged the nice lady in the cat and dog home. They will take pretty much anything and use it. Even shredded paper she said (rather hopefully. I assume it is used as bedding for the smaller animals that they care for.)  I am filled with joy that all the “useful” cardboard boxes that Major Dragon insists on squirrelling will have somewhere to go that isn’t the Hoard.  Also it gives me a list of items to gather when a good natured friend offers aid and a car.  I still feel a bit guilty enlisting them on dump runs but a trip to the cat and dog home to give them things and aww at all the cute animals sounds much more palatable doesn’t it?  The only downside is I want to cuddle all the animals and take one or seven home. Not that they would actually fit in here so they are safe but I do turn into a utter idiot in there, only capable of making weird noises and waving my fingers at kittens with a dopey smile on my face.

So, clutter clearers, hoard cleaners and people with a bag of worn towels. Phone your local rescue centre and see if they can use what you have. Chances are it will be a big fat yes.

*in general pillows and duvets are a no no owing to difficulties cleaning them but as we turned up with one, they will use it regardless and likely bin. But pretty much everything else can be used. Our local centre is also looking for spare wool as a nice lady knits them patchwork blankets they then sell in their shop.