When clutter has no place to hide

Three weeks after the garage roof collapsed we have finally seen the extent of the damage inside. Trying to fit the clearance in between other commitments has not made for speedy progress. Although the tiles from the damaged roof have proved to be almost unsaleable, they still had to be removed by hand to minimise further damage to the goods and equipment inside the structure.

It was heavy and dirty work, but we managed to find a couple of rare sunny afternoons and got a good system going together.

The grubby, grunt work was interspersed with interesting flashes of what lay beneath. Side bets were placed amid much conjecture as to the condition of the various items, partially revealed by removing the tiles, but not yet completely uncovered.

Many years ago, when the children were small, I realised the disadvantage of a Dyson when clearing up tiny pieces of Fuzzy Felt - they can see what you've done. There is no place to hide when a toddler screams and points accusingly at the little brightly coloured shapes in the bagless cylinder. No point in pretending it was an accident.

Similarly, it turns out that the dark recesses of the cluttered garage don't work as secret storage/tidying away unless the roof stays intact. Those bottles that he thought were collectable, and I thought were messy and smelly? Apparently he didn't get rid of them after all.  The old wipe-clean tablecloth, stained with glitter and glue and paint and memories? No, I didn't throw it away. The rash ebay purchases, broken tools, things that "might come in handy"; the detritus of sixteen years in the house, all being gradually revealed.

We've been mutually found out.