I’ve become completely obsessed with a Japanese woman called Marie Kondo. Half an hour was all it took and she’s making me do things I never dreamed would be pleasurable. She’s an Organisational Consultant (yes, that’s a thing) with a series on Netflix and four books under her belt. 

Her raison d'être is tidying up, an activity which for 46 years has passed me by. But for some reason - perhaps it’s the new year, perhaps it’s learning to let go of grief, or just boredom, but whatever, this neat-freak's clarion call has touched some part of my psyche and galvanized me into action. 

There’s even a name for her style of putting things in order – it's called the KonMari method and it’s all about tackling one category at a time. And folding. You take everything out of its place and pile it all up. Then you hold each item separately and decide if sparks joy. If it does, you keep it. If it doesn’t and it's still in good nick, you thank the item and take it to the charity shop. Everything else gets binned. 

Ironically, whilst sorting through a box of letters in the attic, I found a perfectly sarcastic missive from my mother, penned in January 1993. I’d just gone back to university after being home for the Christmas holidays. It read: “I had a most stimulating morning not long ago. I had forgotten what colour the carpet was in your bedroom, but after about two hours, I found out. How totally absorbing picking up used knickers can be – I really must do it more often.” 

So, with mum and Marie in mind I’m slowly de-junking my way down the four floors of our narrow terraced house. I’ve decided which items in the shoe basket induce glee and have thanked and trashed mismatched flip-flops, sticky bobbles, holey hats, threadbare mittens and something in clingfilm that nobody could identify. Three years’ worth of children’s sweaty sports socks had been festering between rusty umbrellas and out-grown cagoules with pockets full of melted fruit pastilles. But at least I know where the aroma was coming from now. 

It seems I’m at a bit late to this revolution though. Whilst extolling the virtues of my new approach to some colleagues at BBC Radio York, Georgey Spanswick revealed she’s been folding three-ways for two years. Julia and June also delighted in telling me about their respective tea-towel systems and streamlined shelves. Then I took to #TidyingUp on Twitter and saw scores of shipshape shower units and immaculate drawers from people right across the globe. 

It might not last. Old habits die hard and there are only so many things you can box up or bin. But for now, I’ve gone the full Kondo. I’m thoroughly enjoying this therapeutic, satisfying process, even though my husband thinks I’ve finally lost the plot and the cats hide before bedtime for fear of being folded up in their baskets.