I really hope GrandDaughter likes reading ...

as much as her mummy did.

A few weeks ago we had a phone call. It was a sales call, which normally I'd hang up on, but the magic word was mentioned: grant. Apparently the government is sponsoring an initiative to do cavity wall (we already have it) or roof insulation. I was dubious about being eligible for any sort of grant but it turns out anyone can get - while the money lasts - a 70% grant towards 10" of insulation if you don't already have it. So we're having it.

That's the good news. the bad news is that before they can put the insulation down we have to empty the attic. This is how it looked:
And this:

Husband has spent about 5 days up there so far. Unfortunately his answer to emptying the loft seems to be moving things into bedrooms for me to sort out. (No, that's not strictly true: he has taken car-loads of rubbish to the tip already.)

Our children had lots of books. Lots and lots of books. I sorted them out before I put any away in the loft, taking those I didn't think much of to the charity shop. Today I went through them again. Here is the shelf of books I'm keeping:
And here are the 2 boxes of books going to a charity shop:
I'm not going to show you - because it grieves me too much - the bagful of books, too dilapidated or tatty, for anything except the recycling bin.

But here are a couple of keeping favourites: Mortimer the raven and Casey, the utterly impossible horse.
Not forgetting Lambert, the sheepish lion. The front cover is missing but I adore Lambert so the book's staying regardless.
And here are the picture books that survived:
Ahh, see Dogger? And Mr Magnolia? Lovely books. But where are Each Peach, Pear, Plum, and Five Minutes' Peace, and Burglar Bill? Daughter, have you stolen them?