I’ve been thinking about clothes. I live in the same jumper and trousers all the time now. They’re so cosy and soft. They mould to my body. I just love them. I think about my old life, how I had an entire wardrobe room full of outfits in every colour and how they were such a part of my persona. I was a teacher and I loved surprising the children (and adults) with a different coloured costume each day. Then as my metamorphis took place into my new adventurous life of travel, I felt more free of possessions and let go of nearly everything. I felt more grounded and free to say goodbye to some coveted objects. I realised in the end that all these things were weighing me down. I was so attached to all the shine and sparkle that as much as I loved them, I couldn’t wear half the things because they were impractical, uncomfortable or special. So they sat getting dusty. But still I bought more. Then I realised I was addicted to buying things but couldn’t stop. When I downsized, I gave bags and bags to charity. Like sooooo many. And I saw the essence of my hoarding nature. Simon saw it too and supported me but it made me think, that’s not an attractive quality to have, being out of control with how you spend your hard earned money and then overrun with stuff in your space making it bulge. If only I’d saved that money instead. But I didn’t, so I’ve learnt. And now I save every month and live in my yummy cosy grey wool jumper and comfy trousers and feel great and free and ready to move where the wind takes me at the drop of a hat.