This is what my manor in Solitude looked like previous to clean-up this morning. My blithely adoring wife, who stood by while I filled our estate floor to ceiling with cheese, didn’t lift a finger to help with the removal. This silent condemnation was the last nail in the coffin. I had to stop hoarding, at least where she was trying to cook.
Before I got rid of it all, I had to do an inventory. Just to see.