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Not In The Mood
Mar. 31st, 2022 08:19 amWe've cleared a small corner of the garage- and incidentally unearthed a bath lift which we had on loan from a company in Kent that won't allow its appliances to be used in Sussex and which we therefore need to return. We were worried we might have left it at the farm- and that would have been awkward.
As the garage empties so the attic fills up with stuff we have no room for elsewhere. That we possess so many pictures is mostly my fault, though my mother shares the blame. If I could find my hammer I'd hang a few of them, but only a few. Among the many that I'm not going to hang are the family portraits, the most notable being that of an early 19th century Quaker ancestor on my mother's side- moderately celebrated in his day- who had a more famous brother and a modest role in ending the slave trade. He was also a clean-shaven old fuss-budget who once flounced out of his local Meeting House in peevish horror because a brother had shown up wearing a luxurious Victorian beard. I love him but I'm not in the mood for him- and doubt that I ever will be again- and this house must not, will not become a shrine. Besides, he's a lamentable daub- which it would be overly kind to call "folk art". The place where he was once moderately famous is the town of Ipswich and I have toyed with the idea of ringing the museum people there and have them come and take him away...
As the garage empties so the attic fills up with stuff we have no room for elsewhere. That we possess so many pictures is mostly my fault, though my mother shares the blame. If I could find my hammer I'd hang a few of them, but only a few. Among the many that I'm not going to hang are the family portraits, the most notable being that of an early 19th century Quaker ancestor on my mother's side- moderately celebrated in his day- who had a more famous brother and a modest role in ending the slave trade. He was also a clean-shaven old fuss-budget who once flounced out of his local Meeting House in peevish horror because a brother had shown up wearing a luxurious Victorian beard. I love him but I'm not in the mood for him- and doubt that I ever will be again- and this house must not, will not become a shrine. Besides, he's a lamentable daub- which it would be overly kind to call "folk art". The place where he was once moderately famous is the town of Ipswich and I have toyed with the idea of ringing the museum people there and have them come and take him away...
