Wol and Iz

I have been mid-declutter for what I am telling myself is a couple of weeks, but I suspect is a couple of months. Or more. Thus, the dining table has been obscured by piles of books for quite some time now.

This afternoon, in the window between finishing work and the Minx returning from the office, I endeavoured to find each pile a home. Some went back on the bookshelves in new arrangements. Some large, music related ones, went onto a deep, repurposed shelf. And some took the short journey into the spare room, en route to whatever charity shops will take them.

I even did a tolerably good job of not getting distracted by little incidental treasures as I came across them, such as this photo of my brother, Wol, and Izzy. He has been such a great uncle to all of my kids, but there was always something about Izzy's full-on, chaotic, and anarchic approach to life that particularly appealed to him.

It still amazes me that she manages to be a proper functioning adult with a demanding and responsible job, without ever having quite lost that uncompromising energy.