Unforgotten – Tick Tock

In the summer months, when visitors prowl the streets with eager purses, there was an infrequent car boot sale on the rugby pitch across the road from our house. It wasn’t a Ming vase, lost Turner masterpiece type of event, more a broken toys and scary ornaments affair. Still, as it wasn’t far, we used to visit just in case. And in all fairness we did pick up a few treasures, books, plants and this clock. When I bought it, for the grand sum of 50p, I was indulged rather than encouraged by my OH. “But” I argued “I love its chrome space-age sleekness, it is a prime example of the art of design”. And furthermore, it didn’t matter a hoot when the man on the stall confessed it didn’t work. Home it came and for the several years it lived on the mantlepiece in our bedroom where I would admire it for its gleaming beauty.

When we were thinking about moving I had to make some decisions about my treasures. Things would have to leave my magpie nest. I glimpse the shining clock and decided that perhaps it would be a candidate for rehoming. Now Ebay and me are not good friends. Generally, I have paid more in fees than I have actually made in profit. I am not suited to commerce. But still I thought “if it is easy to repair I might make a few quid on it”.

In town there was, and probably still is, a proper watch and clock mender. A professional enthusiast; he had special glasses and eye pieces and teeny tools. I took the clock in for his appraisal, saying “This lovely clock doesn’t work, could you give me a price for fixing it, please?”. He said “you need to put a battery in it”. I said “battery”. He said “yes, to make it work”. I said “Oh”, feeling more than a little foolish. “You just turn these screws to take the back off and put a battery in here”. “I have been trying to wind it up with that screw” I was getting in deep now. In an attempt to gain lost ground, I smiled sweetly, thanked him for his time and hurried from the shop, clock in hand.

Of course, I kept the little battery operated clock because I love it, it is shiny and space-age and works very well now it has a battery. And because it makes me smile when I am reminded what an idiot I am.

The Unforgotten – Furry

Inspired by Lisa the Compulsive Gardener’s curiousity, I have decided to embark on a new mini-series.  Quite how mini remains to be seen.  The theme is The Unforgotten, which isn’t quite as dramatic as it might sound. Basically, it will involve me unpacking tat which has been in storage for the past 5 months.  These seemingly, or quite probably, inocuous objects will have a story, mundane or thrilling.  That is the jeopardy.

We will begin with the purple and lime green furry pencil case mentioned in my last post.  Here it is in all its glory.  I have a small thing about stationary, I know I am not alone in this. There is most probably a word for love of office-ware. If not perhaps we should invent one before it is too late. In an increasingly paperless world the days of multi-coloured paper clips, neon highlighters and novelty pencil sharpeners may be numbered. And although I celebrate the preservation of the tree I mourn the passing of the decorative ring binder.  I bought this pencil case perhaps 20 years ago, just I was about to embark on an Open University foundation course.  The reason I chose this particular item is unclear.  To impress my fellow scholars, to comfort my nerves, perhaps it was the pencil case I had wanted as a child but never got? Whatever the reason, I still consider it to have been a sterling choice. And it still brings a smile to my face.