The ‘Charity’ Bag

We have a plastic bag by the front door. It sits silently in the porch. Every time there is a thing either of us sees that neither of us wants or needs it goes in the bag (if it will fit). This, when full, gets walked (usually) to a charity shop (goodwill if you’re in the USA). Its a simple thing and its surprisingly easy to fill such a bag. There have been heaps (literally) of clothes and bric-a-brac that have gone forever from our home through this simple action.

Like most humans, trapped in our own space during the pandemic, I started to notice stuff. More realistically, stuffed. The living room, stuffed, the bedroom, stuffed and especially the garage, stuffed. Now I know a lotta people did the same because our local charity shops had a booking system for drop off!

As a student I lived in the charity shop. There was a place, in a basement, in Manchester that had stalls full of second hand clothing dropped in by hotels and cruise companies (old livery, heavily customised was very ‘in’ in the late punk/early New Romantic era). That place became Aflecks Palace, now a Mancunian legend. You could still get seriously good quality shirts with the button on collars still available, not that we wore those. Shirt tails hanging out over skinny, often stripy (fluorescent yellow and black) jeans…ah, those were the days. I usually teams this with a tail coat. I still own two tail coats though my jeans are less skinny!

For a long time I forgot the charity shop. A little cash in your pocket and you go for new. Sad really. I always donated though. A thing I liked to do when running youth groups was a clothes swap. The kids would bring items that were still wearable but that they were tired of. You brought six things you got six tickets. Each ticket was worth one item. Any unspent could be kept for the next swap but they were usually lost. Unused clothing went to the next attic sale stall we ran to raise funds for the club.

It was always a recycling thing but I never really thought about it that way. I’m an Environmental Science graduate so should have known better. I have some amazing shirts (I like a loud shirt) gleaned from the racks at Cancer Research or the British Heart Foundation. I am very lucky to have more than I need. Yes, there are times I’ll check if there’s a trade in to be had on a book or game. Yes, I know there are apps to sell if you need the money. We took a pile of board games to our local swap shop yesterday. They couldn’t use them so there was no money to be had. (I’m not a saint) but rather than bring them home we sauntered up to the next available charity shop and dropped them off. Someone out there gets a good quality board game and we have a little more space.

These days there’s always a bag or a box by the door. It gets full more often than I care to think about.

Spring has sprung

First really warm day of the year. I can just about stand to be out without a jacket and the washing (laundry) is on the line outside. It is spud chitting time. The Maris Pipers have been sitting on the window sill in an upturned egg carton for about 5 days now and possibly tomorrow they will be going into the grow boxes. The cats are, of course, rolling all over the warm, planted areas of the raised beds but regardless I can see radish begin to sprout.

Potatoes chitting

On the warmest window sill the mange tout and peas are showing green shoots but no-show yet from the broad beans.

Pea shoots

Even after a late night, at a long anticipated concert, the sunshine has lured the family, cats and all, outside. Walking down tne Street people are smiling. There’s a sourdough loaf being manufactured and brownies ready to gift to a sick friend. Its one of those ‘Famous Five’ Enid Blyton kind of days (historic children’s adventures from my youth. Those of a certain age will know what I mean). Lashings of ginger beer.