I could have done with Big Bertha's help just now.
If your adult child ever leaves several tons of books, magazines, shoes and clothes with you, I suggest - in the nicest possible way - that you burn them. I've had custody of them for the last two and a half years. Nine boxes, and I felt my knee nearly give out taking the first one downstairs tonight. So the following eight boxes were tackled with a scarf tied round under my knee in case it went completely. I haven't dared untie it yet in case my knee cap is round my ankle. We have dodgy knees in this family. (I wonder if Bertha had dodgy knees. We have exactly the same horizontal lines round our neck.)
The final box I could not pick up at all and slid it down the stairs one at a time like a bad murderer. Fortunately a neighbour appeared and helped me down the last bit.
Tonight these sodding boxes will be collected and dispatched to the outskirts of Paris and I can put my (raddled) knees under the table again.