Monday, May 3, 2010


One of the many objects displaced from the attic is a faded beige-ish box with a barely visible inscription - in my writing - PENCILS - to which is added, underneath, in my father's confident script, "& things." The things are now rather grubby and sad - like the old colored pencils that accompany them: a bird's skull; a toy sheep made of wool; another wooden toy sheep - seen here - that I think was once part of a Noah's Ark set; a perfectly hideous clay thumb pot with a shit colored glaze (pottery was not my strong suit aged 11); a few shells, and this broken china foal - two legs missing (and not even still in the box, so I must have stored it despite this fatal mutilation). It's nonetheless hard to jettison any of this (not, I know, a propitious sentiment when it comes to trying to clear things out...).

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