It's my life: Tric Kearney

Clothes our children had grown out of were stored here and pulled out years later to a chorus of thoughts: “Sweet divine, charity wouldn’t take these”

LAST weekend, in a mad burst of energy, I decided to tackle a room in our house where only the brave or demented go. It’s a fine sized room, known laughingly as ‘the back bedroom’.

I say ‘laughingly’ because it contains no bed of any sort but it was used by our children, briefly as a bedroom.