Today we moved home. Or rather, we started moving from the 17th to the 21st floor of the same building. Long, boring story. And long boring process. Even if it's just four floors, it still means we have to move all our stuff from one place to another, including - sigh - around 4,000 records & CDs, hi-fi and accompanying shelving system, which took me most of the day while Liz and the girls took care of the more important stuff.
The girls were great. They chucked out so much stuff. Me? I continue to carry around twenty-odd Nurse With Wound LPs and thirty-something Cabaret Voltaire CDs and a massive box of 7"singles I('ll) never play, from country to country, floor to floor.
And then there's the books. Acres of them. As I was transferring them from shelves to boxes I kept thinking: Crikey, I'd like to read that one now, and that one, and I forgot I had that one, and I can't throw away that one... And then there are the books I've read and won't read again but I simply cannot be parted from them.
My young Chinese colleagues think I'm mad. Get rid of them! Get a Kimble. Just use iTunes. Think of the space you'll save!
But I cannot.