This is a story of what happens when two people who both like to keep things 'just in case' contemplate moving house after many, many years of living in the same place. 

Neither of us is particularly organised, and so far our stuff has tended to be in miscellaneous, unlabelled boxes, drawers, tubs, bags, strewn across the cellar, attic, workshop, bedroom, shoved into cupboards and wardrobes, under sofas, on top of shelves. 

We've often thought about 'sorting things out', and occasionally tidy up a little, but, well, quite frankly we can both think of lots of things we'd rather be doing. Now, however, things are different. Now we're really contemplating moving house, and we have declared that Something Must Be Done. 

Our friends and acquaintances, of course, are ready with advice. 'Hire a large skip' seems to be top of the list. But we have no desire for minimalism, and didn't spend decades keeping hold of things just to throw them away in one fell swoop. 

And anyway, they might come in handy when we move. 

So instead, we've started organising, and I thought it might be fun to record what's in our tubs so we can look back in ten years and congratulate ourselves on how useful all those things we kept have been.

Some of our tubs contain practical things for fixing cars, bikes, and house-related items. 

:: bike mudguard screws :: car bulbs :: car bits :: puncture repair kits :: odd bike bits :: curtain hooks :: rail fixings ::  allen keys ::  corks and stoppers :: lift off hinges :: springs :: tool clips :: chains :: hinges :: small handles :: rechargeable batteries :: hinges (chipboard) :: locks :: small brackets :: jubilee clips :: lock and catch d/w (nope, I don't know either) :: brass circle bits ::  coat hooks :: corner protectors :: tiny or flat handles :: battery covers :: round metal :: rubber feet :: sockets and drivers ::  spray paint :: handles and knobs :: large hooks and clamps ::  lighting fixtures :: wooden curtain fittings :: pattress and junction (nope, again, no idea) :: bike brackets ::

Others contain useful household items.

 :: clocks  :: homebrew locks and taps ::  pastry cutters (2) :: decorative brackets and hooks :: 12 volt power :: extension sockets :: small bags :: torches and battery lights :: Christmas ornaments  :: fairy lights :: ceramic ornaments :: tv and monitor leads :: bungees, cords and ropes :: Christmas tree lights (separate to ordinary fairy lights...) :: mains cables :: tins :: computer leads :: birthday cards/letter writing :: spare presents :: gift bags :: wrapping paper and cellophane :: Christmas cards, labels and wrapping :: hair stuff :: straps, belts and buckles ::

Peter spends a lot of time making and fixing guitars and electronic musical equipment, so quite a few tubs relate to that. 

:: valves :: brass pickups :: bridges and nuts :: pins and strap buttons :: machine head bits :: amp components :: audio adapters ::case fasteners :: metal bits :: decorative brass :: 9 volt AC power :: plugs :: phono and din leads and adapters :: brass machine heads :: knobs :: old port audio :: 

Others relate to my sewing, knitting and general crafty enthusiasms. 

:: curtain ties :: unfinished rag rug :: ribbons :: netting and mesh :: velcro :: lace :: fleece (2) :: curtain fittings :: big cotton :: shiny/exotic fabric :: patterned sheets (2) :: furry fabric :: small wool :: big wool :: giant wool  :: clothes to dismantle :: flowery fabric :: cotton for dishcloths :: towelling :: shiny Chinese fabric :: unfinished projects (hmm...) :: plain/functional fabric :: small cheery fabric :: velvety fabric :: stuffing ::  card making :: blank notebooks ::  papery crafts :: paints and brushes :: water colour paints :: pastels and charcoal :: modelling clay :: acrylic paints :: oil paints ::

And then there's the 'other' tubs, full of miscellaneous things that find there way into our house and never seem to want to leave. 

I'm completely taken with our new tub system. It turns out you *can* organise clutter after all - don't let anyone tell you otherwise. The beauty of the system is that it's completely flexible. Filled one tub? Start another. Need to reclassify? Empty out your tub and start again (my labelling system, involving stick on labels, is much easier for this than Peter's, which involves a permanent marker pen...). Buy more tubs if you need them (ours are all from Poundland). 

I imagine there are plenty of you out there joining the 'hire a skip!' brigade, but I'm afraid we won't be doing any such thing. We both love being surrounded by interesting, useful (and not so useful) things, and you just never know when something you've kept for years will come in handy. We're likely to move to somewhere that needs a fair bit of work, so all those screws, hooks, clamps, hinges will get used eventually, and I'll never be short of a craft project. 

Are you throwing your hands up in horror? Or do you have many piles of 'things' like we do? 

Today I had a message from my auntie with a picture of the plants growing in her greenhouse, which reminded me that I never did get round to writing this post. 

Recently, I've been looking out of the window at the garden with an increasing sense of guilt (or, as I prefer to think of it, 'the nagging voices of success'). I've done a bit of weeding, but otherwise nothing much since my mum helped me dig up the willow hedge a few weeks ago. 

Last weekend I decided it was about time I planted some seeds. But then it started raining, and a friend popped round for a cuppa, so I stayed inside and made labels from an old plastic milk carton, cut into strips. I don't like to buy plant labels, and have tried all kinds of other things (lolly sticks, card wrapped in sellotape, labelling the plant pots) but this has to be the most successful. Perhaps not very pretty, but they're only going in the greenhouse, not the ground. 

When the sun came back out I had a box of seeds, and a pile of labels, and headed outside. But then I remembered I'd bought some reduced herbs from the supermarket, and planned to rescue them and repot in bigger pots. I was taught the art of herb rescue by Fay, my Orkney friend (who's no longer in Orkney) and her rescued supermarket basil.

Look at it there, with its roots all tangled. All that was squashed in one tiny little pot! Poor thing. 

I also rescued a pot each of coriander and flat leaf parsley, and they were in an equally sorry state.

I replanted some of each in a giant cup and saucer planter that I have on the kitchen windowsill. Then it started to rain, so I brought the cup and saucer inside, went back to rescue the seeds and the camera (didn't want to ruin yet another one!) - and promptly forgot about the rest of the herbs, which are no doubt now strewn about the garden after all the wind and rain we've been having. 

And I didn't even remember to take a picture of the finished cup and saucer planter. 

So I still haven't planted any seeds, or turned the compost, or rebuilt the mini greenhouse. But I do at least have a little bit of basil on the windowsill now. It's a start... 

What are you growing? Have you planted more seeds than me? 

It was my birthday on Monday, and I'm now half way to seventy. I'd spent the weekend at other people's parties, so when Monday arrived I was tired, and spent quite a lot of the day in bed with a box of Maltesers and a good book. 

When I was young, I couldn't imagine not wanting to make a fuss on my birthday, and just could not understand adults who said they didn't mind whether they got any presents, and didn't want to do anything special. I confess I haven't quite reached that age yet - I mean, who doesn't like a present, whatever time of the year? But I don't feel the need to throw a party any more. 

Birthdays do make me think about the passage of time though, and I like to amble through the past year in my mind, and make plans for the coming months. 

I declared 2014 a year of running and gardening, and that's mostly what filled my time. A second triathlon, and a second marathon, meant lots of time spent running through parks, on trails and hills, and visiting beautiful places I'd not been before. I felt closer to my surroundings than I was before. And trying, yet again, to grow food in this tiny city garden meant I got down on my hands and knees and learned more about this space immediately around our house. 

So far, 2015 has felt rather up in the air. I declared I wouldn't make goals this year, and that was the right decision, but it does mean I don't have the same focus I've had before. We're thinking seriously about moving house, so much of my time has been spent moving things from one place to another, plastering walls, chasing tradesmen, tidying up... There's a mission, but it doesn't feel like a passionate one. 

Other things are rolling along in the background. I've not been running at all this year, but I'll be doing a 10k this Sunday, and a Race for Life in a couple of weeks, so that might reignite my enthusiasm (or not). I'm playing with the local flute choir, but otherwise I've barely picked up my flute at all. I'm filling the garden with low maintenance shrubs in preparation for moving on. Things are changing. 

Of course, some things stay the same, and they're the things that hold me steady when I see the house turned upside down and am inclined to throw my arms up in despair. I knit on trains, and that makes me think of home before we thought of moving. I spend hours in cafes, drinking tea and eating cake and putting the world to rights with a friend or two. 

Today I've tried to restore a mild sense of normality by making liquid soap from a batch of hard soap that went rather flaky several months ago. If it's a success, I'll share it (and if it's not, then let's forget I ever mentioned it, shall we?) Later I'll dig out my sewing machine, and make a curtain for the kitchen window. 

Small things, but important to claim a piece of normal life when all around seems chaos. 

Who knows what my 36th year will bring. A new house perhaps, and with it some more garden, and even some chickens. I would so very much love to have a few chickens in the garden. The thought of chickens keeps me sorting, filing, shredding, moving, when I'd rather curl up in a ball and eat rhubarb crumble instead of packing. 

So here's to another year, however it turns out. 

How do you like to spend your birthday? Do you have a special tradition? I'd love to hear about it!