Week 31, Day 3 (Hitting me where I live)

I'm quite the hoarder, but it's not entirely my fault that my split-apart is also a pack rat. Our worst obsession is books (yeah, like you're surprised!), and if I ever sat down and counted up the contents of our bookcases (in the house, shed and shipping container) we'd be in the thousands easy-peasy. You'd wonder why either of us bothers with a library subsciption!

Then there's the odd ornament, cat toy, and usual clutter. As a result we have far too much stuff and it makes housework a tiresome enterprise best avoided. Don't panic, we're not as bad as Mooney the Loonie next door (for a start, the dishes are clean and the toilet gets scrubbed at least once a week), but there are times I feel a bit overwhelmed by the constant chaos.

Well not now. We've spent the last four days stripping the house down to the barest basics and reshuffling what's left into perfect (almost!) order. And I hold my mother entirely to blame!

It all started last week when Mum rang to say she saw a darling cot in an auction to be held at midday on Wednesday. We really shouldn't have gone to the auction - neither of us have the merest of gaps in our schedules, but hey.. we went anyway!

Unfortunately the cot was a bust (sorry Mum!), with child-strangling knobs, and a few other things that didn't sit right with us, but... I did see a group of 33 cd's as lot #7 and said to Wayne who was sticking around to see how the auction went "Go to $10 on those, and if you get them, beaut. If not, no worries. Keep an eye on those three tall-boys and if any of them go cheap enough, remember I need one desperately for baby's clothes!"

Back I went to Mum's and we spent a lazy afternoon talking babies, computers and generalities.

Wayne rang up around 1.30 to say the cot went too dear (I said $30 would top it out, given the work we'd want to do to it), but that I got the CD's for $10. After a pregnant pause, he said "Um.. I've spent some money. Do you remember that big wall unit?" (No)

It turns out the unit went for $50 and he couldn't resist. Off he trotted down to the money machines in Kaiapoi, and walked back to the auction just in time to see them failing to get any bids on a bedroom suite. The only suite he remembered was a particularly nice one (despite some dork putting a chainsaw on the duchess!), so when the auctioneer asked if anyone would give $50 for it, up shot my beloved's hand.

Y'see, the tall boys I'd asked him to watch had each gone for $60+ (and they certainly weren't worth that!), so he figured an entire bedroom suite for $50 could not be a bad idea.

And he was right, as usual.

So home we came with a medieval-themed wall unit, and a complete medieval-themed bedroom suite. Yep - they had to have come from the same home, and I bet those sellers wished they'd put a reserve on! I say "medieval", and that's true but not very helpful. Think your usual nice/ubiquitous veneer + wood furniture with feature staining, but add turned wooden posts on the duchess and head board, and scalloped trim and wrought-iron handles on all the pieces. And just to prove our luck was truly in, the headboard (padded) exactly fits our king sized bed. Yep - definitely NOT the look of the naughties (ie year 2000 onwards) with the square is flair rule (yeuch) and thus clearly dated, but it works with our dragons and crystals, so it works for us.

But where on EARTH were we going to find room for it in our house? We're talking your very average 70's bungalow (3 brm) in which the office takes up over a third!

Nothing for it but to attack the whole house, and sort out the clutter (can you hear my mother sighing in relief/disbelief from here?).

We've gone for the minimalist look, and have packed a lot of stuff away, and put even more on the trailer to go to the dump. (No books were harmed in the making of this shift) However one of the few remaining wardrobes bravely sacrificed its life so that we could fit the new suite into the bedroom.

I can't believe the difference, and I'm greatly relieved that we've not only found room for baby, but won't have to apologise for the clutter when people call by to inspect our progeny. It goes without saying that now we're less likely to misplace the baby under a pile of memorabilia!

Only some final bits of cleaning to do (all the windows, the oven, fridge, floors, skirting boards etc) and I've got a sparkly house.

God gods. Do I really live here??? And does this mean I may actually become a domestic goddess now that I can see bare shelves and surfaces?