Things that mean a lot to you.

fuzzybuddy

fuzzybuddy

SF VIP
Location
The Sticks, Northeast PA.
A good 25 years ago, I bought a "KMart" mechanical 31 day clock. It doesn't really keep great time. Every time I wound it up, I had to re-adjust it. I was without power for five days during a really bad ice storm- and a bunch of hurricanes. The clock continued to tick and gong out the time, even if it was a little off. It was re-assuring. It was home. Well, 25 years takes it toll on a cheap clock. It's not gonging any more. It's out being fixed. I can't tell you how many times I've looked up at the blank space on the wall, where the clock used to be. In a couple of weeks, that space will be filled with a cheap clock that almost keeps time, and I'll be happy. It's amazing how attached we can be to certain "things", like people.
 

A few years back I had a huge downsizing sale and now wish I had kept some of the things I sold. It's true that once they are gone you miss your "stuff"
 
My vinyl record collection, I should have kept every album...I mean you can get all the songs on ITunes, but you know it's not the same thing.
 
It's silly, but I have a Foley Fork (a mixing fork) that was my mom's. At some point in the past, the handle broke and my father replaced it with a screwdriver handle. I love that thing, not only for its utility but because it exemplifies my late father, who could jury-rig anything. His solutions may not have been pretty, but darn it, they worked!
 
Some of my moms knick knacks.

Between moving away and baracudas having access to my moms belongings,there was not much left,so what little knick knacks I have are truly cherished.
 
A small handful of items I didn't donate when I did my big cleanout a couple of years ago. A suspended purple bubble within a clear bubble perfume decanter from my best friend in Oz, and a glass tiger lily inside a clear egg from my daughter. Also, a pottery tea set made by a South Australian artisan which has the State flower, Sturt's Desert Pea on the pieces. Must not forget the colourfully decorated clay pig my daughter bought me in Mexico during their honeymoon last year.
 
My clock would probably fetch $5 at garage sale, on a good day. And nobody above said they missed their Tiffany diamond studded thingamabob. It's all cheap things, which bring great feelings. That's kind of cool.
 
If there was a fire I'd run out with a dog under each arm and my mother's glass knick knacks in my hands...then collapse on the lawn from running with a hundred pounds of pup...just careful not to break the statues.
 
fureverywhere said:
My vinyl record collection, I should have kept every album...I mean you can get all the songs on ITunes, but you know it's not the same thing.
Click to expand...

True. The album cover art from the '60's was pretty awesome wasn't it. I still have a clock radio, on of the first I think, that my dad gave me in 1966. It still works and doesn't glow in the dark keeping me awake at night. Ah. Nostalgia. :eek:
 
I like the story of your clock, Fuzzbud. I've got this one that my grandad carved out of a 5"X8" block of cherry wood. There's no ornamentation at all, he just sort of hollowed out where he needed to and set a gold-rimmed round-faced clock in it and put a little hinged door on the back. He rounded all the edges and corners and pinned in four little ball feet he carved out of a piece of almond wood, then gave it a nice stain. It's simple but it's very pretty. Electric, so no batteries needed. It's on my night stand.

If I ever had to bail out of bed in a hurry (like if I smelled smoke or something) I'd probably grab that clock without even thinking about it.

Other than that I'd want to save three of my surfboards and a 5-foot tool cabinet, filled to the rims. So I'd be doomed.
 
My status as a Vietnam Veteran.

I believe our involvement over there was a terrible debacle.

But I'm still proud to be a Veteran of it.

I chalk it up to the duality of man. The Jungian thing.

 
I have a bug out bag packed with important papers and some clothes. In an emergency, toss the cat out and grab the bag. Anything else I ever treasured was lost in a fire or left behind while in the service.
 
My Dad worked as a nurseryman his whole life. Every year when I was very young, about 3 weeks before Christmas, he and several men would travel up to Vermont from New Jersey for a couple of days and cut trees for Christmas. He always brought me home a gift. This music box was the first. I got it in 1950. I was only 5 and way to little to wind it. My Mom would wind it for me and I would watch her dance to the Blue Danube Waltz. Back then she had002 (800x600).jpg a blue dress which got shabby and my mom made a new one. It still plays and I have instructed my daughter that when I die I would like to hold this when I am buried. Sometimes it just starts to play for no reason.Wouldn't it be funny if that happened when they lowered me in the ground. It is precious to me.
 

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