Quite frankly I have been shocked at the lack of faith my readership loyal reader has shown in my stickability since I went public about decluttering. I felt – naively it turns out – that by publicising my challenge to match the day of the month with the removal of the same number of items from my life, I might feel the warm glow of collegiate support. It has been a cold, wet and lonely challenge. Poor me.

Naysayers you may yet live to eat your words; on Day 21 of this February life burp, I hang on in here and 221 items have now been removed from my cottage. My tiny rural residence is experiencing a long- awaited loosening of her straining waistband and I feel that she no longer offers an eye roll when I open the front door each evening. ‘You are doing just great,’ she says, ‘ now take those two dustbin liners down to the charity shop before you lose your motivation; you can thank me later for blocking your Amazon account’.

I admit that I still have a week of this challenge to go and that shedding skin is becoming increasingly difficult. My reader knows that I am a hoarder of books and so may be surprised to know that I have decanted a whole bookcase worth of fiction (I may need to discard the bookcase itself if I need to make up the numbers tomorrow). I have then had to enter into some shrewd negotiations with my local charity shop before they will take these five bags of books, ‘The bottom has dropped out of reading,’ the manager says, ‘I don’t suppose that you have any jewellery or an old Kindle instead?’ In the end I swap my books for a novelty teapot and realise that this gamification of minimalism will need to get more creative – I may need to pitch the concept of Bargain Shed to the BBC.

The challenge has been made harder because February has seen relentless rain. I have not been able to face the garden during this half term week to declutter my outside swamp. On Tuesday night – while putting out the bin – I find myself debating whether it would be cheating to include the number of items in my recycling box in my daily declutter count. I resist. I go back inside and count out the pieces in a china tea set that I have never used. I keep one side plate aside to accompany a scone and jam that do not even exist (I am also trying to cut down on carbs) and search for that novelty tea pot.

I keep my spirits up by running through this weather in the hope that this will both defrag my brain and allow some perspective on additional items I can still afford to lose from the cottage. In reality each run has seen me up to my knees in water or puddling around massive pot holes, and on my return to warmth my dopamine levels have been sorely depleted on the realisation that I have thrown out most of my dry socks, towels and spare trainers.

I realise that I may be becoming slightly obsessive about the challenge I have set myself. Favourite Daughter comes to stay and I try to tempt her to take something from the large pile of clothes I am still considering parting with. ‘There are some sartorial classics in here, knock yourself out’. This exercise does not go well; I am so offended by the derision in which FD sifts though my out-dated rag pile, that I feel suddenly protective about some of the discarded items and return them to my bulging wardrobe, apologising for their neglect. Wardrobe shopping is not a useful contributor to a minimalist challenge.

Now that fiction and clothes have been culled from my cottage I am down to checking the expiry dates on condiment jars and contemplating whether shredding utility bills could be a game changer. I distract myself by working through two bags of Year 10 English marking and reminisce about once working with a new teacher who claimed that her car had been broken into and that all her marking – nothing else – had been stolen. I leave my own marking pile and go off to check my Contents Insurance.

My takeaways (sorry) are this:

• Simplifying life is complex. Who needs this tautology?
• You will only realise that you ‘need’ and ‘love’ an item once it has been given away.
• You will inevitably feel envy when you see someone looking gorgeous, in an item of clothing that you have pre-loved and ‘gifted’.
• Setting a challenge like this will mean that you cannot sit down without immediately leaping to your feet after spotting something that you feel you may be able to part with. You will then get out of bed in the middle of the night to return the item from the declutter pile back to its rightful place. You will find yourself apologising to this item.
• February is a good month in which to complete this challenge because it is short month, however check the weather forecast before starting. February 2026 may not be prime decluttering season.
• Blogging and decluttering are not complementary. In my case, obsession with item-shedding has led to a lack of creativity. Reader I apologise now for the mundaneness of this blog and hope that we will never need to discuss this topic again. Let us trust that I will be lighter in spirit as well as possessions next time we meet.

Since going public about this self-imposed challenge, sadly I still find myself pathetically craving for support and admiration from my dearest and nearest. My cravings are badly timed for even in this rainy season I am experiencing a drought with people now distracted by Lent and challenged through a dearth of sugar and carbs – they have nothing left to give.

Himself asks, ‘Have you got anything left to give up for Lent this year?’ When he is met with a tumbleweed of silence he continues, ‘when you get back from your next charity shop visit – if you still own a waterproof – why not take yourself out for a run, you certainly look like you could do with a defrag. If it stops raining I may even come out and take some photographs.