17th March 2014

Popped over to Dad's house this morning to empty more stuff out and managed to find all of mum's table cloths she collected over the years. Some of them she embroidered herself and I still remember her doing them. Put me in a bit of a downer mood again. I hate clearing the house on my own, I wish my brother was here to help me sort it all out. I look at the table cloths and feel I need to keep them; not to use but just in case someone would want them. But who? There's only me and my brother. How much more stuff can I fill my house up with just because I feel guilty about giving it away? And I'm sure he won't want any of it, and Dad definitely doesn't need it. So why have I washed, dried and ironed them all and put them away in a cupboard? I really am my own worst enemy!