Wednesday, 1 June 2011

Most treasured

I am come over reflecting on all things lost, broken and soulless these days am I not?

This is wrong wrong wrong. I must remind me of those items I am attached to. I have thought of three. These I will reinvent, no matter which country I inhabit, nor which shape I am. (Although if I take the shape of something sized like a woodlouse or a hippopotamus, then these items will meet with practical difficulties regarding transportation, wearability and ingestion, obviously. I am hoping I do not inhabit these shapes in the foreseeable future.)

1. Aspirin. I have a ridiculous attachment to these little promises of good health and longevity. I stock up on them, the cheaper the better, no fancy packaging, 300mg straight in my face, non-dispersible. I am convinced that aspirin cures anything and everything. Headache? Pain from crumbling womb? Left leg severed at knee? Take an aspirin.

Caveat: If I consume eight tablets in one day, I find my head becomes detached from my body and floats about the room. Maximum, six.

2. Pointy shoes. No-one is parting me from pointy shoes, so no-one better try. Yes, I will wear other toe shapes, obviously, but my first love remains constant until the day I die. In fact I may make sure that I die wearing pointy shoes. I am game for most colours, fabrics, heights, because these are of less consequence than the fact that the toes must point. I especially like pointy shoes that crush both big toe and little toe simultaneously. This helps maintain a well-rounded state of pain (for which item 1 comes in handy). No. I do not think they make me look like a witch.

3. Shark's mug. In the recent kitchen clear-out I have rediscovered Shark's mug. It is one of those paint-your-own ceramic things she made me pay for when she was aged three and I could refuse her nothing. Anyway, it is huge, about the size of a flower bulb bowl. It is so big indeed that I need to clutch it with both hands and raise it to my face which it then completely obliterates from view. I have discovered a very great attachment to it, although I expect it will wane when I drop it in the sink. But, for now, I fill it each morning with my coffee. (Black, no sugar. And don't give me any of that instant mess or I will complain at a speed, volume and duration that most normal people would be ashamed of.)

Come to think of it, Shark's mug may actually be a flower bulb bowl. That would explain the curious lack of handles.

Now, dear and happy reader who made it this far, please broaden my horizons and tell me what object you are most attached to and would not part from, ever. (Rule: cannot be human, sticking out from a human, or have life.)


saralexis said...

A half glass of beer in the evening.
My iPhone, without which I am nothing.
Packing tape, which holds together most of the toys in this house, home made or purchased then broken.
A close fourth is my enormous tea mug, holds about a pint and a half. Sarah

Deb said...

My children's baby clothes, which have been hacked up to save the best bits (the bulldozer on the pocket, the embroidered flowers), and at present reside in two giant plastic bins in the basement. One day, I shall go check on them and they will have turned into a beautiful quilt.

Nora said...

My cigarettes, my lighter and my cup of coffee. If I have those things, I will always be the kindest person on the block.

HA said...

Boiling water

Spoon and milk are optional extras.

laura said...

My pocket diary,without which I would be found roaming aimlessly tearing at my hair and talking wildly of appointments and activities I would have no way of remembering.
My great grandmothers charm bracelet,possibly the only family heirloom to survive numerous trips accross the world,and a source of endless fascination to everyone who encounters it.
Lavender oil,without which both my daughter and me would be one big eczema and dermatitis-ridden lump covered in steroids.
A close forth would have to be tea.Cup,mug or boot is irrelevant,as long as its tea,Im there!

sharon said...

I have been having a very hard think about this on and off all day long. It was quite painful but, in close order:-

1.My bag without which I feel quite bereft.
2.Sadly, my assortment of pharmaceuticals without which I do not function. Coffee to wash them down with.
3.Laptop and internet connection.
4.Large box containing old family photos (which one day will make the leap onto the laptop) and some sentimental keepsakes.

During the summer months these things are all strategically kept close to hand with the addition of our complete financial records ready to be put in the car if we ever need to run from a bushfire again! Just about everything else is replaceable.

Rachel M. said...

Oh this is embarrassing - my iPhone.

MadameSmokinGun said...

Bit late - sorry

I'd have - YOU!

MadameSmokinGun said...

Oops - I didn't mean that to sound like you are not human or stuff - just meant I need your blog to survive!

Grit said...

aww, you sweet talker, you.