I have lost count of the times I have tried to empty this cupboard. It seems to fill up as fast as I empty it. Even, half empty, it is still a mess. It just seems my brain is incapable of domestic order. At least I have stopped writing bad and unpublished novels...paper always takes up a lot of space.
The wooden marionette was carved in Switzerland in 1949 by my late mother's cousin. I cannot throw any of these things away.