Get your mind out of the gutter. ;)
One thing I keep finding is that when some people reach a certain age (particularly women), they develop this particular taste - obsession - with a certain kind of animal, which will then be reproduced and decoratively displayed in all kinds of forms - pictures, plaster figurines, pillow embroidering, toys - all over the house.
It starts, quietly, sneakily, and then spreads, like the mold on our bathroom ceiling.
With my mother, it was frogs. It started with a fluffy toy frog that would actually ribbit whenever you poked its tummy. And then they popped up like mushrooms in a rainy, mild September.
Plaster frogs in all sorts of revoltingly cutsie positions, on toadstools (ah! watch out for the cleverness of the designer! Frogs...toadstool!). Rubber frogs in the bathroom. I must admit, I contributed to this madness by buying her a frog sitting on a tortoise's shell, both all darling and disney-eyed. I haven't seen mother in 3 years, so I dunno to what extremes this has gone by now.
With my first boyfriend's parents, it was ducks. Wooden ducks, mounted dead ducks (his dad was hunting), pictures of ducks, you name it.
With my grannie, it is cats. They've got about 4 humongous, overfed live cats, and then pictures, and figurines and the whole works.
I've always had a little thing for collecting knick knacks. I guess I got that from my great grannie. I love those snow globes you shake and then it snows on a little world inside. I have a rubber E.T. and a fancy rock collection, and a Hopi Kachina doll, and sand samples from different deserts on this planet (sahara, death valley, etc). I have always been like that, cos I'm kind of like Ray Bradbury in that regard... each thing has a story, is the anchor of memories I may write about one day, and that may drift off in my muddy sea of forgetfulness otherwise (my am I poetic *cringe*). I think I got that from a TV show, I don't know which, that I saw when I was a kid... a bloke picked up an object and told a story about it. I guess I do the same thing.
But recently, I have discovered an unnerving tendency. I have discovered which animal will most likely haunt my house when I am an old bag.
Check this out.
And this.
I love Texas. I think Longhorns are adorable.
And I have a new favorite song.
Would you consider this a clue?
Does a bear shit in the woods?
I'm... I'm scared.... Can someone knock me out?
