Everyone has them. Things that you save for only those ‘special occasions’. And boy, the occasion needs to be pretty special. Why else would you feel up to first wiping the dust and cobwebs away?
To illustrate my point, herewith a few of my ‘elite’ little items (with the corresponding special occasion it was last used at):
Glass salad bowl from Spain: Yet to be used; still waiting for that special occasion to materialise.
Tablecloth bought in Arles, France: Hubby’s birthday in November; used once.
Dinner set: OK, this comes out a bit more frequent, but it is packed in its own little cupboard. It makes an appearance on Mothers’ Day, Fathers’ Day, birthdays and Christmas.
Chanel No. 5: Only when I’ve carefully considered whether the occasion is really worthy. (I’ve had it for 2 years now; quarter used!)
Crystal champagne glasses picked up at a charity shop: Birthdays. (Nope, not even new year. By the time the champagne must be popped, too much champagne has already flowed. Can’t risk it!)
Moleskin notebook… notebookS…: I confess! I have a thing for books/journals in general. I never want to write in them. It feels like I will somehow spoil them. But I keep getting them. So, when last used? Never!
Today though I realised that I’ve carried this vice for protecting beautiful things for exceptional circumstances to my writing as well. There are many beautiful things I want to write about, but each time I contemplate putting fingers to keyboard I’m scared that I will spoil it. How can I write about something special with inadequate words? How can I describe something that is indescribable?
I’ve been thinking about it and the only way I see calls for me to just go for it! Caution to the wind!
Here’s to laying the table with the French table cloth and that packed away dinner set, while serving salad in the Spanish bowl, and having champagne out of crystal champagne glasses while wearing a little bit of Chanel No. 5!
(Thank goodness I can still save the Moleskins!)