Saturday, 10 September 2016

Then there were two

Oh, this is really sad. If you read my recent post Then there were three you'll recall that a heavy Pyrex jug slipped from my hands when washing up, and fell onto a couple of Chinese bowls in my washing-up rack, breaking one. This was the scenario:

I threw the obviously-broken one away. The one underneath seemed OK. But now I've noticed a hairline crack. It's on its way out. I've decided to throw it now - I don't want to see it get worse.

That's two bowls slain, after twenty-four years without mishap. I now have only two left, not what you can really call a 'set' any more. I will use the remaining two daily, but inevitably they will suffer greater wear and tear, or at least run a much greater risk of accidental damage. And I will definitely now have to buy a proper set of posh bowls to replace them, in case I entertain. Chinese bowls again, if at all possible. I like the style.

This is a rather tragic loss. The bowls, as a set of four, had been part of the background to my daily life for so long. They had been one of those minor but familiar possessions that I used through many a phase, many a crisis. The two remaining bowls seem forlorn, in mourning for their missing siblings.

I do feel the loss of my favourite things very deeply. Oh, I know, there are no pockets in a shroud, and that kind of practical sentiment. But it's hard not to experience a certain passing sadness. Still, these breakages may signal a sea-change. Time to cast away the old, and bring in some new. It may all herald a comprehensive revamping and re-equipping of my home.

1 comment:

  1. There was once a time when I had too much emotional attachment to objects. Ceramics by their very nature accumulate chips and cracks through time or a once treasured piece imbued with memories is ruined in a clumsy moment. I have learned that the world goes on after occasional breakages and even better since I cannot overcome being brought up during post war shortages and scrapping still serviceable items does hurt, there is joy in finding something new which fits your new personality.


This blog is public, and I expect comments from many sources and points of view. They will be welcome if sincere, well-expressed and add something worthwhile to the post. If not, they face removal.

Ideally I want to hear from bloggers, who, like myself, are knowable as real people and can be contacted. Anyone whose identity is questionable or impossible to verify may have their comments removed. Commercially-inspired comments will certainly be deleted - I do not allow free advertising.

Whoever you are, if you wish to make a private comment, rather than a public one, then do consider emailing me - see my Blogger Profile for the address.

Lucy Melford