Kate (Chronicles of a Country Girl) put what she called a Vignette on her blog yesterday. It was a display of things, grouped together, which had significance for her. In a way it made a kind of statement and she invited readers to do the same.
I am afraid I am a bit of a hoarder when it comes to "knick-knacks" - I have an awful lot of them about, cluttering up surfaces. But each one has a memory for me and I could not bear to part with any of them.
Things which my son bought for me when he was small - a replica pot from the Vasa which he brought back from Sweden; a fine china beer mug he once bought us for Christmas; even an egg timer he bought when he was very small and which is well past its sell-by date - I have kept them all because they mean a lot to me. Small things of my mothers (her thimble), things which my sister or brother gave to me. I suppose we all have these things.
This little group in the photograph stands on my desk in the window of the sitting room. I took the photograph after dark, hence the dark background. There are seven things and they are all of great sentimental value.
The photograph of my parents with my sister was taken in 1910. The silver frame was given to me by the cast of an amateur dramatic company of which I was musical director. The tiny suede book is a copy of The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam which belonged to my dear Aunt Nell, who has been dead for many years; the silver paper knife was bought for me by my late first husband on our Silver Wedding Anniversary; there is a tiny pair of scissors there too, in an Art Nouveau pewter case - this was bought for me by my niece quite recently but I love the workmanship - it is quite exquisite; the little box is very delicately watercoloured and deserves a picture of its own so that you can see it more clearly. It was bought for me by a dear friend who sadly died a few years ago. Tomorrow, when I have more time I will try to show you the box close up - it is beautifully painted. And finally, the little bottle. I don't know where it came from and it don't know what it has held but I just love it.
None of these things has great value but I love them all because of the memories they hold for me. I suppose when I have gone they will be dispersed and their meaning will be lost for ever - and that makes me sad.
Vignette anybody? PS And the little silver mouse? How did he manage to creep into the photograph - he gets everywhere - he is a real showman and likes to steal the limelight. Where did he come from ? Ah - that's a secret!