(Not) in a jiffy

I’m totally out-jiffied here. I thought I was going to clean the house. Instead I have spent some time in the basement. We needed to find our tools, and we couldn’t, for all the jiffy-bags. Such is the professional hazard of a book blogger. I suffer for my art. (OK, and I quite enjoy myself, too.)

So by the expedient moving of several million jiffy-bags from tool room to laundry room (logical, I know) we could get at the tools. And in order to put some more washing on, the jiffies needed sorting pronto. Hence the lack of a clean house and a de-jiffied basement.

I was brought up to be frugal and not throwing away jiffy-bags is a virtue hard to give up on. You never know when they’ll come in handy. Never, by the looks of those tottering piles. Oh, I send the odd thing in the post, and the pleasure I get from not having to buy a padded envelope is great, but they kept piling up. As fast as the books one floor up, actually. Maybe the two are related, somehow.

Three sacks, I threw out. It had to be the day after the rubbish collection. But at least it’s now piling up outside the house.

And bubble wrap. I didn’t know I had so much! And tissue paper and brown paper for parcels. Plastic carrier bags. Loads.

Hah. All neat and tidy now, and I am not allowed to put any more of those by. Son had also saved the LP sized boxes my Roger Whittaker collection off eBay arrived in. In case we were ever selling them again… As if.

Oh, yes, and a 750g bottle of salt. Full.

Can’t explain that.

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2 responses to “(Not) in a jiffy

  1. Aaaargh – living in the land of the tissue paper famine, I’m wishing I lived closer to your abode. Tissue paper is the single most useful thing for wrapping home made bread in. Put hmb in plastic and it becomes an overnight penicillin factory, but tissue paper allows it room to do whatever it is it’s doing down there in the breadbin.

    There is a frugal part of me with one eye toa dystopian future when we’re all going to be living in very cold caves, having fantasies about days of yore when we had hot water pouring out of spigots on our ceilings, and we used to have so much paper we threw it out.

    And unwanted salt? It has to be a time-slip Roman burying a hoard for his descendants…

  2. Now, Debi, the salt wasn’t unwanted. Just unexplained as to how it arrived there. Personally I have some sort of system, however vague, before I store.

    Very scared of dystopia, but feel that I am not helped by having to build a larger house to keep up with the Jiffies. The Joneses, yes.

    Hoarding is such a problem. I’ve spent years (like all my life) saving this or that, but then I sometimes come across some more carefully stored items, and realise that had I needed this thing, I would neither have known that I had it, nor where.

    Mould? Eat faster, woman!

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