Things

A youngish friend coming in to our kitchen and looking at the array of implements hanging on the wall said innocently they were such a motley lot, why didn’t we buy a modern uniform set. Anne's response wavered between outrage and amusement. Every piece has its history, part of the narrative of our existence. She and I were both brought up in households shaped by the Great Depression and wartime austerities. We pre-date the throw-away society. In some aspects we have very different temperaments but there are others we share. One is the capacity to cherish things for the memories they carry. We know in time they rust, fade or wear away and will need replacing.

We accept the need for a sense of proportion. Alexander Pope’s lines spring to mind
'When husbands or when lap-dogs breathe their last;
Or when rich China vessels, fall.n from high
In glitt’ring dust and painted fragments lie'
Pope makes an assumption that women are the people who react foolishly.. But men can equally make unnecessary fuss about insignificant matters. All human beings do. A broken vase no matter how treasured on the scale of human disasters is trivial though I’m aware that a rare piece is irreplaceable.

Nevertheless, neither of us are clean sweep sort of people. Such liking for memorabilia carries the seeds of a problem. Sooner or latter we will have to downsize and get rid of a lot of these things. Most only carry meaning for us.