You've got to start somewhere

I'm starting this with some trepidation. I'm not sure why: no one will read this any more than they read my diaries written in the days when as a teenager I thought my day to day life was important and significant. So I'll just start!

My Youngest is away on a residential trip with her school. I've taken it as an opportunity to restore order, not to say cleanliness, to her bedroom and bathroom. She's an artist and this apparently means no item, not of any description, should be thrown away: her room is generally littered with paper. There are sweet wrappers, muffin cases, homework instructions, unfinished paintings, drawings, cards and tissue structures (like papier mache but using enormous quantities of loo paper). There are containers of chalk dust, pencil sharpenings, beads, fabric scraps and a large collection of stones and pebbles, mostly from our drive.. It took me most of yesterday but I have retrieved a dolls' tea set containing a variety of potions, unearthed the carpet from under the detritus, and remade her bunk with clean linen.

I don't want you to think I'm stifling her artistic talent! I haven't thrown any of the artwork away, and the sharpenings are contained in a box; but I draw the line at soggy tissue and paint water left out because 'she might need them', and even the spiders need the chance to escape occasionally.

Altogether a very satisfying days work. Very few e-mails though, and no reason to wander down to school and chat in the playground: there are downsides to being self-employed. Oh, it's time for 'The Archers', must dash...