Success sweet as mess mountain knocked off

With my eldest life form preparing to venture out into the big wide world, the time has come to downsize from the four-bedroom house that we have called home for the past eight years.

Sounds simple enough. But it's me we are talking about here, so no, of course, it can't be that simple; anything but.

I decided this was the time to have the "big clear out" - the one where you finally throw out everything that you have been hanging on to for years, convincing yourself that, one day, the "Fat Fairy" will come calling, and magically whip off 45kg while I sleep, allowing me to once again wear all the clothes that have been gathering dust for as long as I have been gathering centimetres.

Add to that eight years of accumulated kitchen clutter, old furniture and furnishings and half a lifetime of the life forms' unwanted or unused belongings and I'm actually tossing out more than I am taking.

It was dangerous work, I can tell you. Wardrobes and drawers in the boys' rooms, piled high with junk, yet it all had to be sifted through to ensure nothing of sentimental value or importance was accidentally discarded.

Each room was emptied into the middle of the floor and the sorting began. I had come face to face with my Everest. Could I knock the bugger off?

I notified the withered old crone of my expedition and went in as prepared as I could be. I turned on the GPS tracker on my mobile and attached myself to a safety rope, anchored to the kitchen sink. My small backpack contained emergency flares, chocolate, a Thermos of coffee, the last of the Christmas ham (in sandwich form), two bananas, life-saving cheesecake, a roll of 30 rubbish bags and my beloved Lappy, so I could keep in touch with goings-on in the real world.

I did everything but leave a trail of breadcrumbs with which to retrace my steps, knowing full well that Waffle would eat them. The old crone knew to notify the authorities if I did not emerge after 24 hours.

Weather conditions were not ideal and visibility was poor - not entirely sure if it was due to bad eyesight or low cloud coverage - but I soldiered on over the rough and rugged terrain, unearthing relics of the past, including a fur sample from a life form's first "haircut" and handwritten notes saying how much they loved me, though possibly written under duress.

Hours passed, day turned into night. Black rubbish bags, filled to capacity, took on the appearance of gigantic boulders. Heavily weighted with years and years worth of trash, each one representing a massive mess of memories, I wondered if I would have the courage to cut off my own limb should I stumble and become dangerously wedged between them. It would be tough going with just a cake fork, but one does what one has to to survive.

Cheesecake supplies were at an all-time low, as was Lappy. I'd forgotten to pack the charger. My body ached and although I was getting tired and a little peckish, the sense of accomplishment was enormous. When I started the ground was rocky and uneven. The landscape before me now is a clean, flat surface, some call floor. It's a wondrous sight. I reach for my mobile and take photos, to capture the breathtaking beauty of mess-free wooden floorboards.

The room has parted like the Red Sea, on one side the plentiful, newly formed, "black sack boulders", and on the other, we have just two small boxes of things I really can't live without. In the middle, there's me and my much lighter backpack, standing proudly on the clutter-free summit of my Everest. I did knock the bugger off and after this experience I'll knock off any bugger who gets in the way of my new minimalist approach to living. Clutter free is the way to be.

I phone the crone to let her know my expedition was a triumph.

Now, just six more rooms to go, but not before I restock on cheesecake and rubbish stickers.

Who would have thought that getting rid of the rubbish would cost way more than the actual move itself. Spending so much cash on nothing but trash - how's that for irony?

Thanks, yet again, for all your great feedback. Keep it coming, investik8@gmail.com and as always, smile loudly.