Ok, so I tend to have a bit of a thing for rescuing lost or discarded inanimate objects; this isn't just restricted to reuniting them with their owners or placing them back in their "homes"...sometimes they need to be given a new home: my home.
I get annoyed if people in shops decide they no longer want the item they are carrying (packet of crisps, tin of beans, cuddly toy, facial sauna...no, wait, that's the Generation Game) and just plonk it on the nearest shelf. Not only is it lazy and irritating, but to me that item looks at its new surroundings and feels bullied, as if the cans of sweetcorn are raising an eyebrow at their new resident and saying "Beans, is it? Oh, poor you, drowning in that vile tomato sauce; how do you cope?" (I like to think there is a class system within canned veg and that Baked Beans are more often than not on Veg Jeremy Kyle).
Anyway, back to the point; I, more often than not, put these things back where they should be. I hit stumbling blocks when the things are squooshy and cute; these things don't want to be put back on shelves or in bargain bins, they want to be taken home and loved or utilised, whatever it takes to fulfill their purpose. I remember a Sunday morning waiting for the bus right by College Green when it had been pouring with rain until a couple of hours before. As I was waiting I saw a small wooden bear lying in the road, soaked through. I nipped out of the bus shelter and picked it up, finding that it was a discarded car air freshener; its sad little face broke my heart "Why wasn't I wanted any more? Did I do something wrong?". In my pocket he went and I still have him now; not in my pocket, but sitting on a shelf and he smells lovely! I feel like he makes an extra effort to exude scent in thanks for me rescuing him.
For me, it's about an inanimate object fulfilling its destiny; this includes not throwing away biros if they still have ink in them ("I can still write for you! Please, not the bin, nooooooooooooo") and wearing odd socks so that the one that lost its mate still has a purpose and isn't lonely. I also take the packet off the shelf that doesn't have the "NU SPESHUL OFFUR!" on it. No one will want the one that isn't special, they want the freebies and competition forms; I'll take the other one, thanks.
I have no idea how this started, I think it's borne of a very vivid imagination; it's probably how Nyafanya (my pup) and I have funny conversations, where she tells the jokes and I laugh, although that may be labelled as borderline insanity.
Well this behaviour led to this event: off I toddled to Marks and Sparks to get wrapping paper for grandma's birthday present; I was browsing the lovely TigerPrint bits and bobs when I could feel them watching me. I turned to find the Easter chicks that were left over from the festivites of two weeks earlier, all huddled together: beaky grins and gimpy wings.
Thinking practically I picked up two with the intention of using them as props for when I'm photographing next year's Easter cards, but as I added them to my basket, the rest of them suddenly looked so sad; they had been reduced in price because no one had wanted them. I actually couldn't bring myself to walk away from the yellow cardboard tray with just the two I had picked up; what was the destiny of those which remained?
To come home with this mug!
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