I come from a family of horders
Nothing I mean nothing gets chucked. Clothes that were second had to begin with are passed from child to child until they get used as dusters, then oil rags finally firelighters. rather than throw stuff away it tends to end up at the top of the attic and and the back of the shed.

I was always quite proud of this. while the other kids were wingeing about how their toys had vanished into oxfam during the school day. I smugly new that my mum, raised by a man who would strip a burned out electric kettle for parts rather than chuck it out, would not even hoover up a single lego brick.

This summer my parents were clearing out the attic in order to make room for their new extension. I was called in to sort through my stuff. finally the hording had paid off, pound signs were looming in my eyes as I envisioned making a killing on eBay.

NO. BOXES AND BOXES OF WORTHLESS TAT YOU COULDN'T SELL AT A CAR BOOT.

I can only assume that time has glossed over people memories as the the value of their childhood possessions. As all i found was 20 year old brick a brack, that I ended up chucking away in one trip to the dump.

Junk isn't priceless, we are just associating childish emotions with certain objects because we had them as kids. Possibly being unique in the sense that my mum kept my stuff allowed me to see it with grown up eyes for the trash it is. The price certain stuff commands Is created by people who are desperate to regain a piece of their lost youth.
( willenium Fist bump for verification, Thu 14 Aug 2008, 18:25, 1 reply)

i
just read that as 'a family of hookers'. intriguing concept really. who would pay who?
( ascorbate, Thu 14 Aug 2008, 19:06, closed)