It’s amazing how some things can seem like a terrible chore until you discover a Motivating Factor. Today I had just such a perspective shift. My bedroom is in a terrible state, with books piled double and triple on the shelves (to say nothing of the floor), cupboards filled with rubbish and old junk from when I was younger, stuff that should be in the cupboards sitting out and gathering dust - I’m sure you get the idea. It is an unholy mess.

Yet despite my obsession with neatness, this mess is not the sort that’s easy to tidy up. Big decisions have to be made about what will go, and what will stay. Any attempt to sort through the junk (or indeed the books) ends up in a fit of nostalgia, either painful or reflective. It isn’t just rubbish, it’s sentimental rubbish, which makes it harder to deal with. There’s also a lot of it.

So, when I heard about some family furniture that was potentially up for grabs, and heard that a chaise longue was among the offerings… well, my heart went pit-a-pat, frankly! I love chaise longues, and I think I love the idea of them even more. In my mind, they should be covered in cushions and perhaps have an elegant shawl draped over the back, the perfect seat for a lady of refinement to sink into with a book. (Yes, I’m romanticising this to a ridiculous degree.) I was determined to have it. However, there’s a problem of space, and long story short, the furniture will need some serious rearrangement if it’s to fit. To do that, I need to tidy, big time.

‘My’ chaise longue doesn’t look much like this, but it’s nice, isn’t it?

The task doesn’t seem half so bad anymore, though. Not when there’s a chaise longue as a possible reward. (If it fits in the room/in the car/through the doorway…) My fingers are crossed. I’m going to work hard. It will fit.

I also have a new mirror, from the same source. It’s very ornate and really… well, let’s just say it has candlestick holders. It’s rather fabulous. I’ll try and take a picture soon.