Memories frozen in the shadow of time
THERE’S a lot of talk these days about decluttering. A side effect of our increased material wealth is an exponential expansion in the amount of stuff we accumulate as we go through life.
In my role as a roving property correspondent, I walk into many unoccupied houses that are waiting in the shadow of the gavel.
These places are often exactly as they were the day the last occupant left.
Photographs hang on the walls, pictures of wedding days, christenings and holy communions are on sideboards and mantelpieces linked by cobwebs and frozen in time.
They await for the executor auction to take its course.
You can almost hear the rustle of the black refuse sack being readied to consign all the stuff of a life to an undignified end.
It’s salutary lesson.