Good day to all out there in the Void
What another fantastic day again, it is just starting to cloud over a little but it has been a wonderful shorts, t-shirt and bare feet day again. For the first time in the longest time I have taken the dog out without having to ware a coat, me not her, but she has a fancy one too.
I have been making the most of it by putting grease proof paper on the window making my self a little shoot box and thus I spent the majority of the day finally getting a photo project done that I couldn’t seem to fathom yesterday. In my mind I have this small collage of eight images symbolising how to make a proper crepe, high key stuff. Then the eggcups came out, followed by Mr Kipling French Fancies (changed the recipe, taste odd now), then I sabotaged mother big box of Guillian chocolates she got from her work. I do like product photography; it has a habit of, how to put it, not moving.
I have this little belief that every day should be made special or have something you can look at and remind you of a time, and it is those items that I want to talk to you about today.
The image you see before you wasn’t meant to mean anything, I just took it because the condensation looked artistic that morning, and the mirror ball is always there, the giraffe was just to add an interesting leading line. It wasn’t until today when I started thinking about what to write that it dawned on me where the giraffe came from and it took me right back to that very time.
It is strange how a bit of cheap plastic can bring about a smile, even years after an event, but yet we all hold onto those silly little things. We stuff them into musty draws, bottom of boxes, back of shelves with the rest of the junk we can’t be bothered to sort out and throw out. Any other person in the world may have thrown it out, because after all it is just a bead or a sock or something as mundane as a ball point pen, but you, no, it is yours, and only yours, your special little happy memory. I have silly stuff like a bunch of goose feathers in my passenger side car door, rocks in varying cubby holes of a book shelf, old leather buttons, scraps of old writing in envelopes, each of which means something profound and heart warming to me only, so there is no point in me explaining why because you would not understand, just as I would not understand why you keep some of the things you do.
I have had my giraffe for what seems like donkeys years, he came to me in a rather posh strawberry milkshake, in the days when I could have a strawberry milkshake, while I was holidaying in Hawaii. Oh yes, I am getting a bit fancy dropping destinations, but as I have said before I have travelled well. I must have been no more than seven years old, a very small but long seven year old, and I was kneeling on a warm, heavy iron chair inside a shopping centre with a huge waterfall in the restaurant. The morning had been spent swimming in the pristine sea with my mum and dad and had to be wrenched out of the water like a wrinkled, crinkled prune. I remember it being so hot, uncomfortably so. I could feel the spray come off the waterfall, it was cool and welcoming. I was allowed to watch the fish until the lunch arrived and when it did, it was a performance of it’s own. The milkshake came on a silver platter with a huge swirl of cream on the top, when it got to the table a lighter was brought out, a sparkler has plonked deep into the shake and lit, wow, to a kid was the bees knees and there on the side was the blue giraffe. Not sure why a blue giraffe and not a pink flamingo but, hey, not an answer I can explain but I do have a flamingo swizzle stick from the plane coming over. So yes, it may just be a three-legged bit of dusty cheep tacky plastic, but to me, it was sparklers, waterfalls and fish in Hawaii.
It seems so funny what these thing do to us and how hard it is to say goodbye to some of them. I have recently had a turn out of my belongings in the attic, the majority of stuff was just junk that piled up in the heap of “I will sort that out later” and like many of you, later is a long, long time away, it mounts up, higher and higher and the less you want to tackle it, but you still add more to it until one day you break or you feel proactive and proclaim while wearing a super hero cape “today is the day”. Well that day was that day and much was culled in the search for the attic floor, but in doing so an item would turn up and a bucket of memories would open up, you put it to the side, caring on clearing till another one turns up, you put it aside and so this was the routine that carried on the duration on two to three days.
Now I am stuck with the problem of having boxes of things I just can’t get rid of ,but these are things I would never use or see the day of light again. Toy cars with lost wheels, old Christmas cards when they came from mummy and daddy when they where still together, books I learnt to read with, old ballet shoes, my little ponies with well combed manes, a huge bucket of Playmobile and I cannot bare to let them go because to me, they where my childhood, my happy childhood. They are the things that as a grown up, I can not acceptably play with any more, but a huge, selfish part of me cannot simply hand over to another child who would not understand what it meant to me, they would be binned in no time. Besides it is most dated by today’s standards of childhood entertainment.
I am glad that I had my childhood, in the time that I did, I had proper toys that used imagination to play with, my dolls did not speak or wet themselves, batteries where used for my Fisher Price tape player only, Stickle bricks (see below, not my image) where and will always remain cool in my opinion, health and safety weren’t a bunch of kill joy fun destroyers and the big one was, having a computer in the house was unheard of. Oh this makes me sound like a dinosaur and not the child of the 80’s. I feel sorry for the children of today, they can’t simply just play outside anymore without the threat of Mr Peado being out there, they interact more with computers than they do with real people, they care more about having a phone than food, that is just sad in both senses.
Anyho, back off my high horse findus pie, embrace those things that make you happy, share your memories, tell others of your journeys, educate them of other times and other worlds, remember the good times then they where your friends, they where your family. Don’t live for the regrets of your past, they will do you no favours, open up a draw, dive to the back of it and see what trinket or memory is there to brighten you day. Happy diving.