Cupboard of doom.....

Yesterday, this came up in my FB memories....

When I was little, our understairs cupboard was called 'the glory hole' but as a child I could discern nothing glorious about it.  It was dark and damp and smelled musty, and the spiders were legion.  I generally avoided it all costs, but now I'm a grown up, and from time to time, roughly every six years apparently, needs must and the 'cupboard of doom' as it is now called, must be tackled and tidied.

Can't believe it's been a whole 6 years since we last cleared out the understairs cupboard although of course the difficulty in closing the door has been hinting at it for some time.   It's a tiny cupboard which you have to crouch to get into but I am convinced that it is a portal to another dimension, from which 'stuff' continuously seeps. 

Ideally it should house the hoover, spare light bulbs, car de-icer, household tools etc.... really useful stuff which should be easy to find.

In reality it functions as a depository of weird sh*t, the uses for which are lost in the mists of time.  So yesterday I set about hoiking everything out of it, to assess what we actually needed and what we could safely sell/recycle/dispose of.

In no particular order, I discovered.....

• Huge number of dusty cobwebs, the inhabitants of which were probably hiding under the storage unit during the upheaval. I wisely decided to leave the unit in situ.
• Eleventy billion carrier bags, which at current rates probably equate to the annual GDP of a number of small countries.
• Quantity of electrical leads and cables with a frankly unbelievable selection of different plugs, mostly obsolete.
• Assorted components of old tech from long deceased computers, TVs etc, again, mostly obsolete. 
• Car components which have been replaced but deemed to good to get rid of.
• Eleventy hundred spare light bulbs of every size and wattage with every conceivable fitting.
• Assorted tubes of silicone, caulking, sealant etc, several of which were solid.
• Eleventy thousand loose rawl plugs and screws in every size and shape.
• Arcane plumbing bits and pieces.
• Several miles of old bits of cord and string which had combined to make one large unholy tangled mess of knots.
• Bags of various fixings and fittings which we had no idea the use of.
• Reels of sticky tape for every conceivable sticky tape emergency.
• That perennial tube of stove polish, which I might actually use at some point before Christmas....

After I'd pulled it all out we stood looking at it disconsolately for a while and I was sorely tempted to just chuck it all back in again and nail the door shut forever.  However, I soon rallied, and optimistically reasoned that between the two of us we would be able to power through the sorting and decision making more quickly.

A damn fine idea in principle, but mine and PP's notions on what constitutes 'useful' are poles apart.  We had a minor tussle over the worn out car windscreen wipers but PP won and they ended up back in the cupboard.  I scored some minor victories over all the old cables and tech and we declared a truce on selling some barely used leather toolbelts.

Apparently, no piece of string or cord longer than 6 inches should ever be discarded, so I spent an entertaining half hour untangling the massive Gordian Knot and sorting all the various bits to relocate to the kitchen drawer of doom, which is a smaller cousin of the cupboard.

Several hours later we were left with three piles....  one with 'useful' things to keep, one with stuff to sell or freecycle, and one with old junk to take to the recycling centre.   We were both tired, dusty and disgruntled, but at least the cupboard door does now close easily with a satisfying click, and once the various boxes of cleared out stuff have gone to their respective fates, the hallway will once again passable without having to negotiate an obstacle course.

When I've fully recovered, physically, mentally and emotionally,  I might even tackle the Tupperware cupboard.....