Clearing Dad's house in Nerang

I'm in Nerang, and I'll be honest: I put this off for far too long. Nan had lived in her unit for thirty years. When she died, the family couldn't agree on anything for a while, and by the time we did, the body corporate wanted it emptied.

He'd kept everything: forty years of tax returns, his work tools, the good china, three televisions and a shed full of fishing gear.

Nerang is a hinterland gateway with acreage blocks, older homes and industrial estates, and getting things out isn't always simple. Long gravel driveways are no issue for our tippers.

I sent a couple of photos and got a call back within the hour. They gave me a rough idea on the phone but said they'd confirm a fixed price when they saw it in person.

They parked so the back of the truck lined up with the side gate, put a drop sheet down at the door and asked me to show them anything that was staying.

They asked before moving anything that looked personal. A few times they brought me something from the back of a drawer, like a ring and a letter, that we'd have lost otherwise.

By the time I'd made them a coffee, it was nearly finished. The price didn't change, and they even took a couple of extra bits I'd forgotten about without charging more.

I'd tried to do it myself twice before. Next time I'm just ringing straight away.