Life’s Clutter

It sat on the mat. A pink plastic bag. ‘We Need YOUR Help!’

My house is full of things that I no longer use. Too good for the tip, too old, or too old fashioned. ‘We can’t throw that! It cost a fortune!’

 These items lurk in a cupboard awaiting their ultimate fate. The charity bag.

‘That cupboard needs clearing out. The next bag that comes, I’m emptying it. Everything goes!’

The pink plastic bag sat and stared at me.

I’m doing it now - no sentiment. Anything that can be of use and will make money for charity is going.

I open the cupboard and work my way towards the back.
 An old coffee pot finds its way into the bag, some books, much thumbed, a china ornament that would grace a Blackpool gift shop, and there, right at the back, is my collection of vinyl. I no longer have a record player and so they sit, impotent. Many of them I have copies of as CD’s. But it’s not the same.
 

I start to take them out, reading their titles, smiling and remembering, singing snatches of songs that I’ve not heard in a long time.

I riffle through the rest and pull out one. A cardboard sleeve, in perfect condition.
 Leonard Cohen.

I smile and am once again a slim young thing of the sixties.

"Do you want to listen to some music?" My brother, "Anything as long as it’s not Leonard Cohen!"

"What is this miserable rubbish?"- My mother.

Long evenings with friends. A glass of wine, or two. Comfortable silences punctuated with music and conversation.

The poetry of the lyrics, the thrill of the guitar and the gravely voice singing words that bring tears to my eyes.

Life stretching out ahead, anything and everything is possible.

I close the cupboard. The pink plastic bag still sits looking at me.
Maybe I’ll fill it next time!