I liked this recent effort by Simon Callow.
Some people use objects to sketch a trajectory through time, and choose things that transport them to past experiences. Others choose objects relevant in the immediate present.
It's a bit like a Desert Island Discs of Things.
It got me thinking and seemed like a fun thing to do. You don't need to be famous to wonder which objects somehow speak about your life. My problem is that I am not really into possessions and don't really buy a lot of stuff: I like things that are useful of beautiful or both. I do pick up junk in the same way my jumper picks up fluff, and I cannot bear to throw anything out.
Oh dear. Anyway, here goes.
This little block plane is a gem and something that should have been in my toolkit years ago, decades ago. It fits snugly in your palm, is unbelievably sharp, and cuts cleanly even across the end-grain. It is just a laughing joy to use, and it does so many jobs. It also makes a soothing swishing noise.
I have eaten yogurt for forty years or so, and it is the main staple food here at the Mansions. No meal is really a meal without yogurt. If I could, I'd eat nothing but yogurt. Nothing beats Longley Farm, but Sainsbury's have the best deal around at the moment.
This is my Gibson guitar which I bought after my mother died in 1973. The fingerboard is hollowed out between the frets with constant playing. I play every day on it, and it has been an outlet for every kind of mood. Its voice has mellowed over the years, and so have I. This guitar isn't as slick as modern guitars, but it does sing so well.
It feels shaming to have a computer on the list. But I spend a lot of time with it, researching family trees, and especially mailing. It has a white cardboard hood because it is black, and Aspergers make me unable to tolerate black in large areas. It just makes me jumpy. The white cardboard works a treat. The computer needs a much overdue update.
These are Dickies dungarees, and they do not mind if you treat them like this. Dickies make my favourite clothes: tough, uncompromising, and able to shrug off stains. They are so comfortable to wear and very forgiving. Did I mention that they seem to last forever ? They are really useful and in winter I wear them almost constantly.
Shorts. What would I do without shorts ? They are what I wear between April and October. (Different, clean pairs, obviously.) My legs like the freedom and wonder what happened to the light when I have to put on trousers now and then. Most of my shorts are violently striped and have to be kept well away from the camera. They do not need the air of publicity. These are slightly more restrained.
Hello Catullus. He has been a friend for life. At least it seems that way. When I first went to university, and went to the local bookshop clutching my reading list, Catullus was the first book I bought for the course. Or rather, my father bought it for me. It was the wrong edition. Neither of us knew then that Catullus would become a life-long passion. I read him at least three times a week, and have done for nearly fifty years now. I learn something new every time. I love the emotional directness, and I adore the feeling that you can hear real Romans talking in some of the poems. It is time travel and emotional intelligence in just the one book.
And this is my copy of T S Eliot's Collected Poems. At university I was Obsessed (capital O) with Eliot and carried this book around like a Linus blanket. It went everywhere with me, and was never out of my sight except when I was actually asleep. It battered now, and is my most-travelled book. Eliot's magic still remains, though the obsessive quality of my love of his thinking has faded. As a young man, the Waste Land spoke to my condition, but latterly it is the beauty of the Four Quartets which has continued to entrance me.
And this is my father's spring balance. He used it most days, and it is the only thing I have of his. The balance was lost in a fire, and was badly damaged and blackened when I dug it out of the ashes. It was expertly and sensitively restored by Salters completely free of charge. It's face needs re-coating, but I think it is fine the way it is. It lives in the kitchen and though I do not use it often, I enjoy its presence.
The last object is my bike. Not really my bike, but almost any bike. My current bike is not my favourite and was a huge mistake. But bikes have been a vast and important part of my life and no day feels complete without riding one. I get jumpy if I do not ride, and, like music, bikes have rescued me so often. Tandems, trailers, side-by-sides, road bikes, mountain bikes: all have helped me bliss out.
Hmmm.
Wonder if I would pick the same objects tomorrow ? For sure.
PS I got a comment which Blogger would not put up for some reason. It was this:
Oh I love this post. It really is you. I don't think I could do this, as I don't think I am attached to anything like you are. Except one of my mum's fleece green jackets that I wear often. It just gets me feeling close to her. Second would be a special ring that I wear all the time.
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