Clear-Out

I took many black bin bags full of the Dowager's clothing to a charity shop this morning. I performed the task quite unceremoniously, because I didn't want to become sentimental about any of it. My mother had a fine wardrobe of items, amassed during a lifetime; though during her period of incapacity she gained a little weight and, as a consequence, was unable to wear some of her best skirts, dresses, jackets and coats.

The charity shop assistant reminded me that they were unable to accept electrical items and I know there's a travel hair-dryer - of little use to me! - somewhere amongst all the stuff. I told them to throw it out if it was unwanted.