I'M always at a bit of a loss about what to do after Christmas. The novelty has just about worn off the new gifts, the only food left in the house has something to do with turkey and if I see another mince pie I'll probably throw up. Worse, I've read all my library books and it's too cold and wet to go out in the garden. I could, I suppose, go to the sales, but frankly I'd rather be dragged naked over hot coals. It's the winter blues I dare say. The excitement of the festive season has gone and there's nothing to look forward to until I can start planting seeds and planning an early spring break. So let's do something really depressing. Like all those jobs I've been meaning to do for some time but haven't actually got around to. Number one, clean out all the old handbags which lurk around the place. Now I know most people keep a pristine line of handbags, all empty, in their wardrobes, ready to use when they feel like a change. I tend to merely swap over the essential items when I want to use a different bag leaving the others full of a shameful pile of rubbish. Hence a little collection of handbags all bursting at the seams and probably containing a lot of things I've been looking for for months. First, the holiday handbags. Holiday handbags have to be big, preferably with a very secure strap and with lots of compartments to carry various documents, cash, cards and receipts. In the brown one I find my form E111, which I didn't find the last time I went on holiday and had to get another one. In fact I always get another one because I can never find the last one. The bottom of the handbag is full of sand, which is odd because I don't remember going to a beach, and cluttered with cosmetics, sun tan cream, odd bits of currency, none worth much or they would have been spent, a magic mosquito bite relief gadget, which didn't relive much at all but left interesting looking red circles on various parts of my anatomy. I've kept all credit card transaction receipts in case someone took my number and went out and bought a camel with it and lots of restaurant bills so I can easily work out why I put on half a stone and that my theory that you sweat off excess food in hot countries is, in fact, wrong. There are also several lighters, all dud, several unwritten postcards, an old passport (the one with the even worse photograph in it than the one I have at the moment, if that is possible), a 'learn German in a week' phrase book (I didn't), some strange looking seeds which I meant to plant as soon as I got home but didn't, two hairbrushes, a paperback which I'd searched for in vain on holiday, a fridge magnet I don't remember buying, my handy travelling ashtray which I thought I'd left behind, spare glasses, single earrings, quite a lot of packets of airline sugar, salt and pepper (why do I take these, I never use them and never will?) and, from the same source, a little pot of long-life, but not that long, milk. All the other holiday bags contain much the same, including the postcards which may explain why nobody ever gets a postcard from me. The day to day bags are also crammed with similar items except that there are also quite a collection of scissors, which I have decanted from holiday bags just before I leave because they confiscate these, as well as a handy corkscrew and a pair of fold up secateurs. In the process I turn up a mobile telephone charger for a phone no longer in use and my camera charger which I thought was lost forever. Ditto sunglasses, some with one lens missing so totally useless. Emptying out each bag I shake it and find there's something under the lining. It's a mystery how things manage to get through the lining even though there never seems to be a hole in it, but I can't resist poking a tiny hole in it to find out just how many pound coins have slipped through, but of course none ever have and all I find is a French coin, six pennies and a couple of lire. At the end of handbag cleaning I have half a dozen empty bags and a pile of stuff that really ought to be kept. So what to do with it? Yes, you're right, I stuff it all into one handbag and quickly put the bag back on the shelf. Handbag cleaning turns up personal stuff. Cleaning out drawers can reveal a lot more. I've always had a top drawer, which isn't necessary at the top but which is always called the top drawer, as in 'I'll put it in the top drawer so it doesn't get lost.' Top drawers are handy things, but get a trifle overloaded, so need an occasional mucking out. This is usually when things start slipping down the back of the drawer and filling the cupboard. The methodical method is to divide all things into three. Those to be definitely thrown out, those to be definitely kept and the don't knows. The first is easy. Chuck out old magazines, newspapers, raffle tickets which didn't win hampers or trips to Spain, the same with lottery tickets, competitions forms never posted, old birthday cards, last year's calendars, dried up make-up which smells funny, empty pill bottles and dozens of jam jar lids whose jars have long been recycled. Out they go. To be kept are knitting needles, patterns and balls of wool, even though it's highly unlikely I'll ever knit anything with them; so perhaps they should go into the don't knows, guarantees for electrical equipment still in working order which will break down two days after the guarantee has been chucked. Lots of scissors and hairbrushes, in fact this is the elephants' graveyard of scissors which are all mysteriously congregated together in a corner. Anything to do with children, who may not have played with stickers, badges, posters, bits of old games or packs of cards for months but will scream in horror if you throw them out. The same for things like football posters even if there appears to be nobody in the house who supports that team any more. Included in the things to be kept pile is the 'I've been looking for that for months pile', which always includes your favourite knife, tool, gadget etc, lost jewellery, maps, instructions for electrical items or DIY furniture which you had to make or use without instructions, fuses and fusewire which you swear to keep near the mains' box in future, all birthday and Christmas cards from your children which you just can't bear to part with, at least one video club card although you've had to get another one, another and even faster 'learn German' phrase book, same result as before, bundles of recipes cut out of magazines (I'll make the Italian chocolate Christmas cake next year, I swear) When this lot have been replaced carefully in the drawer the 'don't know' category remains, and it's usually a big pile. Don't know if the little bits of this and that, the bits of metal with holes in it, the wing nuts, the strange shaped screws, the bits of plastic with knobs on, are some integral part of something and may be identified any day now or just rubbish. Then there's things which might work if they were mended or given batteries, like watches and calculators, broken necklaces, the electrical end of an electric knife (did the blades go out last time?) a stop watch which has permanently stopped, clockwork toys slightly rusted. Lots of CDs, tapes, free offers of broadband internet (a recent addition to top drawerdom), a garlic crusher which needs the strength of Godzilla to crush anything but which might come in should the other three break, lighters galore which only need filling but can't find the gas filler top to fit them. Not to mention two dozen empty film containers I save to collect seed in but always forget to take with me. Most of this stuff should really go but I can't bear it. Don't, however, ever be tempted to throw away anything when anyone else is in the house, or they'll all scream 'don't throw that away'. It's the same with loading up bags of children's toys for the charity shop. If they spot you almost every item will be classed as their favourite toy, book, game or gadget, even if they are 39 years old. So, dispose of all the must go stuff and as much as possible of the don't knows. Or, stuff the lot back in the drawer and have a nice large glass of sherry and plan on doing it next year. January I mean.