Given Imogen and now her parting gift, torrential rain, I find myself clearing out cupboards. I hate tidying up at the best of times, but the rain leaves me no excuse other than to do the jobs I have been putting off.
So, why am I so obsessed with keeping everything? 30 odd years worth of theatre programmes for a kick off.
My old teddy bear, Snowball, who following years of spinning around in the washing machine, has long since lost all his stuffing. He has been with me since I was about 5 and slept with me until I was about 30. I was very needy. I moved out of the family home at 18 and he came with me. He was always there to comfort me when going to bed started to take on a whole new meaning and were sometimes an epic fail. Snowy has seen it all.
I tend to hoard stuff as mementos. A great birthday (champagne cork), wonderful holiday (wine tasting glass from Stellenbosh) and, clearly, every single theatre programme since I was 16. Then there are all the magazines and newspapers containing my words of wisdom since I was 8. It has got to stop!
Scientists will say hoarding can be hereditary and yes, my Mum was pretty hoardy. And as for the photographs, where on earth do I begin? Come on get a grip! I need to declutter!