For some, there may come a time in life when you can peacefully place the wedding present your deceased mother gave you in the council hard rubbish collection. This is the story of this ceramic jug. As I was marvelling at its pristine condition an elderly gent came outside his house to ensure I had found it and recounted its provenance, replete with an English wedding. As he is now retired and moving interstate with his wife, he decided to dispose of many of his possessions. (Even so, the wedding present your mother gave you?) I admire and am confused by this outlook, which seems both evolved and just a little bit too practical. At this moment I side with the ancient Egyptians, in the sense I’d like to carry significant objects with me in case I collide with the afterlife. Besides which, a sizeable pyramid would come in handy for containing all my booty.
Lovely blue vase, no cracks, no chips. Should not be in hard rubbish. Should at least be allowed the dignity of being gently transported to an op shop where it can be dusted, fussed over, placed with careful consideration in just the right spot. To be then fortuitiously selected by a very happy shopper who is all too keen to hand over some cash for charity- and get a LOVELY BLUE VASE!
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