Today, an attempt to restructure my small study/office/dreaming space. The aim of the day was to buy more re-arrangable shelving than that currently installed, which are essentially bookcases. But the opportunity seemed to present itself to declutter. This meant going through CDs, books and vinyl albums asking the three key questions – have I read/listened to this in the last year? If no, do I love it? The questions are supposed to cut through sentimentality like a knife through margarine (the butter would have been in the fridge), but they resulted in a mere two boxes of CDs, cassettes and books being taken to the Oxfam music shop and Shelter bookshop in Stockbridge (and a dozen or so vinyl albums being packed for the purpose but ‘forgotten’ – aha). Again, the spurious notion of some relationship with these things prevailed, and ruthlessness was tempered by ruth. Vinyl albums were the biggest paradox – ‘I might one day want to listen to it.’ Have I in three years? No. But I might. Do I want it enough to buy it again on CD? No, why should I? To download it? No, not really. But still I don’t let it go. In a larger room this would not be a failure. Madame’s answer: a bigger house.