The weather guess-timators are promising a week of  lovely warmth and mostly sunshine, which means I get to spend most of today in clothing purgatory otherwise known as the seasonal clothing switch.  Clothes that were put into plastic bins months ago and stuck into dark awkward places are wrestled, dragged, and cursed out of hiding.  The bins are opened with much anticipation by my girl children, revealing dresses, skirts, shorts, and tank tops that have been lying in wait.  Next, after pulling the bins out, comes the dreaded part.  The part where I have to coerce, nag, plead, and occasionally yell at my children to try on, sort through, and (the dreaded impossible part) move on the clothing that no longer fits.   I get lines like “I might wear it” or “but it is my favourite” that hinder the purging.  Then there is the lengthy decision making process about what to put away for winter.  What can’t be parted with, what didn’t see the light of day for the last six months but is still needs to be kept, what barely fits now but still needs to be stored.  The turn over can take up to a week, between decision making and stuff that is in the wash that could contribute to any of the multiple piles.  A week of climbing over partially full bins and around teetering piles, until the bins are finally closed, wrestled, shoved, and cursed back into their dim hiding places.  Where they lurk until I have to go through the process again in October.