While the (Senior) Cat's away

this "mouse" will "play". 
Or, more seriously, I decided to take the opportunity to do some much needed clearing out. It has reached a point where the Senior Cat won't notice. 
He was never really interested in my mother's sewing. He pretended to be. He would "admire" her attempts at machine embroidery, the clothes she made herself and the pyjamas she made for my nephews who lived here.  Truthfully though my mother was not good at such things. She was too impatient. She disliked sitting at the machine. She loathed hand sewing. She tolerated plain knitting because she could watch television or, more likely, talk to someone at the same time. 
She left behind her "sewing room". It is the one I now do the ironing in and which, for the last sixteen years, has been the repository for everything that "might be useful" and that "can't be thrown out".  It is a mess. It is a disgrace.
The Senior Cat is not a tidy person. I am not a tidy person. If I think it is a mess then it is a mess.
I won't finish the task but I am slowly clearing some of it out. I have put piles of sewing thread, needles, pins, bobbins, zips, lengths of elastic, bias binding, tape, buttons, and tailor's chalk into bags. I have given some of it to a neighbour who sews. (It will help to make up for the fact that she won't let me pay her for taking hems up.) There are still some lengths of material there - not the sort of thing I would ever wear even if I sewed and nothing the neighbour would use. There are endless other things as well. It all belonged to my mother and has not been touched since she died.
Then you add the other things, sheets of cardboard, boxes, knitting wool, knitting needles, bags, two of the Senior Cat's gardening garments which need new cuffs and an elbow repair, wrapping paper, cards, string, spare coat hangers, a winter coat, and all the old wall calendars - "in case we need to refer back to them". 
Several times I have been tempted to just shut the door again, to forget it is all there. It isn't because of the memories those things bring back. They don't bother me - although I am aware that some of them might bother the Senior Cat - perhaps if he saw things like the "cushion cover" my mother made when she was learning to use her new sewing machine. (We gave the machine to someone who was desperately in need and she has since made her living from sewing for others.)  But he may well not remember things like the cushion cover so I have packed things into bags and, anything potentially able to be sold, I will deliver to the charity shop.
The stray balls of yarn, not to my taste at all, will go to the "knit for charity" people. It is still in good repair. There is no moth damage. 
but I still wonder what to do with the "might be useful" things. I had to  use one of those "overnight" bags for the Senior Cat this last week. The wrapping paper does get used. So do other things.
I really don't like clearing out and tidying up. What bothers me is that I might give away something we actually need.