Having just watched a couple of episodes of the TV Program Hoarders with abject horror and fascination, I want to retract that bit I said about saying "Yes to Mess."
In fact, should I ever be tempted to save another jar or piece of pretty wrapping paper or small scraps of silk, velvet, newclippings or interesting buttons, feel free to show me these programs again, lest I too disappear under eight tonnes of garbage or can't find my way to the front door. I do come from a long line of hoarders and have always resisted this impulse in myself but I also had the misfortune to marry a Grand Master of the art and now watch anxiously for similar traits in my offspring and their children. They say there is a genetic component.
There is absolutely no storage in the new place and it feels crowded if I so much as hang a picture so I need all the help I can get. I do find it rather ironic though, that just as I have managed to part with my old knitting patterns - it took me three children to finish the little jacket I started while pregnant with the first one - the tennis racquets, the various redundant cameras and computers, the National Geographics and my Dad's old leather suitcase, these things start turning up in trendy shops and home decor magazines.
I confess have just borrowed a Brownie box camera from another great hoarder because it looks so right on the bookshelf, but I hope the good Lord will keep me from further temptation.