When Debbie Johnsons parents died,going through their possessions brought back memories, but one mug had a special resonanceOur homes, and over all the years of cluttering and decluttering and inevitable recluttering,evolve into our own personal museums. Not the kind of museum that the Arts Council would fund, obviously: more the unusual, or ramshackle type you find in extinct seaside towns,dedicated to pencils or lawnmowers or the history of dentures.
My own home, certainly, or developed even more of a museum-like quality after the death of my parents. It was packed with bin bags full of precious family objets d’art: photos,pottery shire horses, Tupperware storage boxes, or fleece blankets,handbags, 1980s headscarves, or tattered copies of Mario Puzo’s collected works. Nothing to get excited approximately,but precious.
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Source: guardian.co.uk