Dear LPG readers,

Are you one of those grandparents whose children are as busy making rules for their children as they are for you? I want to remind readers that it is important to look objectively at what any grown-up child says before dismissing it. However, it is still important to recognise them as your little ones and not little ones who have grown up and become your dictators.    

Some throw the odd comment your way as all your family members indulge in a chat during those days when they converge on you for a visit, while others will take you to one side as they make their feelings known. Their assessment of your over-cluttered house can often be one topic of contention.  

I know most of them do it out of their perception of love. Still, I feel that perhaps every parent who is also a child becomes so practised in advising both younger and older generations of their family for that family member’s good that they can forget the consequences of their good intentions.  Laying down their version of the law, even with their idea of the best of objectives, can become second nature to them by the time your grandchildren get to their pre-teens, and their skills can have a habit of resurging when they come back to visit.

 
I thought about everything in my house that I could get rid of. Still, I suspect that many ladies my age would find throwing away the outfit they wore to one of their weddings or a christening gown that brings back memories hard to part with, even though neither person can ever fit into them again.  Perhaps it is the case that those things represent our history and who we have been throughout our lives once the people that they belonged to have changed or gone forever. I'm curious how much of the so-called clutter in the attic is there because it reminds us of a time when we were young.

So much of the memorabilia in my home these days reminds me of when my little ones depended on me, and there are also quite a lot of items that those ‘children’ have asked me to keep and promised to come back forever since they left the nest the first time.  I find it ironic that they forget to point those things out when making the comments, whether they are being light-hearted or serious as they mention the subject.  

I find myself fortunate to be still able to live in the home that holds so much of my family history. I value the blessing of still having many very special things around me. While I don’t have piles of newspaper from floor to ceiling in every corner of the living room or kitchen, I admit to having an attic and cellar that might need a bit of a clear-out. I do have a go from time to time.

Since mobile telephones with cameras have become accessible, I have been taking pictures of the rooms in my home.  At first, they recorded those family memories of children playing in a bedroom or having a family Christmas dinner. Still, it was not long before I discovered the value of taking regular pictures of the decor.  I have found that taking photos from the same viewpoint three or four times a year indicates whether things are getting more cluttered.  The phone dates them, and any increase in clutter is noticeable when you play spot the difference as you flick through them or get a friend to.  

A progression of such photographs offers a better argument than one that results from becoming defensive about such a comment, and a visually supported answer can be a subtle reminder of just how bad things are getting (or not).

There is sometimes added strength to one’s defence when it comes armed with those ancient family photographs -   

1.    They often remember when your home was more minimalist, and your children were much younger.

2.     Dated pictures can support the argument that much of the clutter they refer to is often a consequence of their existence.

3. Sorting it all out when it is no longer needed is perhaps something that children should see as part of their duty

… and I have to say I can see the subtle signs that their kids’ bits and bobs are accruing when I look at the backdrop to their pictures…    Their time will come…   

TH, Bermondsey