I am throwing things out. I am not, by nature, a hoarder, but things can build up. Today I loaded into the big bins in the courtyard a massive double armfull of mostly teeshirts with some trousers. I am also throwing out trainers, about eight pairs. There was also a hoover and a cd player. As I said on the note I left on the street, functioning perfectly. It’s just I have no more use for them. I remember buying that cd player in Darty in Paris when I had bought a little flat there. In the queue a woman pushed in. I told her she had pushed in and she was scandalised and told me she was handicapped. I said she didn’t look it. She was scandalised again. Blatant pushing in of queues is something you get in Paris. You have to answer back. It is immoral to turn the other cheek. A lot of the clothes have memories attached to them too. The trainers document a period in my life where I bought Gola trainers. The first pair was also in Paris. I oo-ed and ah-ed about buying them. They were green and brown and about 60 euros. I’ve not thrown them away, but I think all the other pairs of Golas I bought were a ripple from that first pair of green and browns. Only now that I throw the others away do I see that as a part of life now over. Posters are also on the way out. You buy posters and never hang them. I have about twenty: from art galleries or museums mostly. I thought I’d hang them but never did, or sometimes I did and took them down after a couple of years service. Sometimes they had to go to make way for shelves. As it were, through no fault of their own. Actually, none of these things are to blame: shirts; trainers; posters; cd players, hoovers. They are just making way. They’ve served their time.

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