Season of change
In March this year my house finally looked exactly as I wanted it. That’s because we were selling it. All the extraneous stuff was gone, banished to a storage container on a dusty lot in west Auckland, leaving only the homewares and clothes we loved and needed. Every morning that the house was on the market and available to view, we’d squirrel away the few items that had made their way out, make sure the cushions were artfully arranged, and hang up two pristine mustard towels no-one was actually allowed to use. Then we’d leave, admiring how fab it looked and wondering if we should be selling it at all. This isn’t strictly decluttering, given the existence of that storage container, but I would advise the ‘open…
