Moving house is a strange experience.
Every time we move we say never again.
Every time we move we attempt a de-clutter.
Every time we move we say we will NOT pay a removal company to move our rubbish.
Then, when we're sorting through our 'stuff', these ice cream tubs appear.
They date back to the 70's and 80's. They are filled with treasure. The kind of treasure that fills you with nostalgia and longing for people and places that are no longer there.
I slide my hand through the marbles, rolling the china boulders between my fingers. My brother and I used to play marbles carefully, not wanting to damage these beautiful glass spheres. We never played for keeps. Now they're all mine.
These crayons smell amazing. I remember getting wax under my fingernails as I covered piece after piece of paper with patterns, the same patterns I doodle now.
Finally, a tub of teenage treasure. My badge collection. I never collected anything whole-heartedly, but I managed to amass quite a few badges over the years.
Oh how I loved Adam Ant. Loved. Completely.
So what did we do with these tubs?
That's right. I couldn't throw them away. We paid Pickfords to move them for us. Again.