Last week, when my beautiful wife was moving things to do the bathroom floor, she dropped a porcelain cat-shaped toilet brush holder that I had once belonged to my aunt.
To be honest, I’m not sure whether I got it when my aunt passed away twenty-some years ago, or if I got it from my sainted mother when she passed away ten-something years ago after she received it from my aunt, but we’d had it for a while.
I put it on my workbench with the thought of gluing it, but it’s rather fine (that is, thin-walled), and, meh, it’s just a toilet bowl brush holder. So I discarded it (and Internet sleuths will discover that it’s a rare piece of sculpture worth thousands, but too late now).
Which is funny, because I received a couple of cat decorations, little statues about 12″ or 18″ tall, from my other aunt who died in 2019. I placed them beside my fireplace upstairs, and the boys were younger then, and although I told them not to throw balls in the house, one of them managed to break one of them. And I glued it back together and moved the statues downstairs, where the boys roughhoused less.
Why did I save one but not the other? I don’t know; one was a piece of sculpture, and one was a piece of utility? Or maybe I’m just arbitrary.
