HOARDER SYNDROME

JUST BEFORE WE START, A WORD OF ADVICE FOR THE INNOCENT. DO NOT RENOVATE. EVER. JUST DO NOT DO IT

- JON FAINE

WE LIVE in an old timber house, really old, in fact ancient. We should have pulled it down years ago. It is held together by structural paint.

It was bought around 40 years ago. All the other prospective buyers intended to demolish and start afresh. Only one idiot saw the potential and kept the shell. Back in those days, excited at the start of the home ownership journey, we renovated with a new kitchen and bathroom. With no money we of course did it on the cheap.

Then when the trampoline floors demanded some restumping, we did it again.

Later, when the kitchen was inadequate and we had more cash, we upgraded, and threw the dice for what was supposed to be the last time.

Now approaching statutory senility and noticing that presumptuous young people offer to give up their seat on the bus for me, and instead of being sensible and moving house, taking the opportunity to join the growing band of downsizers, we have invited the builders in again on the basis that this is forever. Next stop is a pine box.

Which leads us to the garage.

Or, as it has become, the local self-storage option for the impenetrable pile of detritus that was previously the entire contents of our home... our life in boxes and bags. Piled up in wobbly stacks that threaten to engulf my cars.

Like many readers of this august journal, my garage is my special place.