It is a stormy day here in Perth. I sit by the window in our little blue fibro house ploughing my way through stacks of magazines. One by one I am bagging up old copies of Frankie, Smith, Womanhood, Better homes and Gardens and yes even those free magazines dispensed monthly by my local Coles and Woolworths stores.
Why have I kept them? I kept Frankie, Smith and Woman because they are beautiful no bullshit magazines. I seriously do not care whose marriage is on the rocks or which celeb has recently been blighted or botoxed. FS & W magazines have substance. They are interesting and look nice on the coffee table, then stacked up against the fireplace, then stacked in hoarder worthy piles on the sideboard.
The others I keep because I have this other persona, this woman inside that wants to keep the perfect house, feed the family nutritious ‘easy’ to prepare meals following epic shopping trips without turning my kitchen into a disaster zone. Thank goodness for dishwashers and canine floor cleaners.
So the plan of late is to comb through each loved copy and let go. I have to ‘comb’ to be sure that I did not miss anything the first time through.
In this the day of the digital and failing eyesight I plan to let go of the old ways. The days of delicious printed pages that clutter up the house and attract dust in favour of the electronic versions of my beloveds.
It has not been easy. I have not bought a hard copy magazine this year. I may linger at the newsagents, fondle a page or two, but bravely I walk away empty handed.
I will not pretend that it has been easy. I donate each copy to the local St Vinnies with the good thoughts that someone else will find joy in their find. Maybe a hoarder with more space than me and with no plans to reduce their clutter will give my lovelies a home.