Now that I've asked you about what you'd save if the house was burning down, I find that I don't know. What's irreplaceable? If books, which ones? And do I know where to lay my hand on Evangeline Paterson's 'Through Stone', which is out of print and contains so many of my favourite poems?
Photograph albums, yes, but most of them live in the attic or on the attic landing. Perhaps I'd have time to dash up there and throw them out of the windows and myself after them. Some of the photos aren't in their albums at all, they're in packets, so they'd rain down and blow along the street and hopefully be returned by helpful neighbours. The problem with old photographs is that they can be a source of domestic differences. As the paramedics scraped me off the garden and wheeled me into the ambulance, Tony and I would be clutching windswept prints and having one of those conversations...
'It was the year we went to West Dean. That's the village where the sweet shop was...'
'No it isn't, it can't be, because she's wearing that top and she didn't have it until two years later...'
'I remember it, because you were looking for the smugglers' cottages...'
'no, we were looking for Civil War stuff because he was doing that for his A levels, and we were in Bristol, and that's the village near the Downs...'
and I would be right.
So I suppose I'd just grab Hamilton Bear and the framed photograph of Daniel the Spaniel and leg it. They're not only precious, they're pretty near the front door.
3 comments:
I've thought about the fire thing too, and I've come to the conclusion that it's all just stuff. Photos, yes...maybe I'd grab them...but then again, you can always take new photos. If you don't have photos, you have memories, and if you lose your memories you don't know that you lost them anyway, so no harm done. The present is just a culmination of everything in the past, so enjoying the present is all you need of the past.
On a side note, I have to tell you that we are wrapping up The Heir of Mistmantle in my class this week. Lugg died on Friday, and a few students had a good cry. We talked about what it means to leave a legacy, and how Tip and Todd are a reflection of Lugg, just as many of them are reflections of their parents, grandparents, etc. I encouraged them to go home and ask their parents if they were anything like their parents or grandparents, and if so, in what ways. It was neat to see so many of them connecting with where they came from.
Thanks, once again, for the gift of Mistmantle.
Wise words, about the fire thing.
Once again I'm stunned by what Mistmantle is doing. Nothing to do with me, I just write stories. But it's wonderful to see you and other teachers leading the children through Mistmantle and using it to help them connect with the things that matter. Thank you.
(My younger son has inherited my love of words and my tendency to migraines. But I don't know where I got them from.)
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