I am a Things person.  I like some Things.  When I was quite small I worried about knives and forks in case any of them felt neglected and so I alternated them.  Although for all I know your average fork might have preferred to be neglected because the silver plate wears off after a while.
After that it all got a bit difficult because I didn’t have a lot of money to spend on Things.  But my Mitchell Uncles did send me a small cheque every Christmas which I spent on Green Wheat Pottery at the local Helston Ironmongers.  Just a couple of this and a couple of that.  Green Wheat was cheap in those days.
I now have a vast collection which could well be worth a small fortune.  Picked up here and there.  Six Teapots and Six Coffee Pots.  Forget those.  An entire Dinner Service by eight and with all attending other thingies  like where in to put the bloody boring vegetables..   In the vegetable things of course.
And then I went on to Paper Weights.  Two Euros a throw but all utterly lovely.  Bankrupt stock so who knows what they are worth.  I have no intention of selling any of them.  These are my Things.  Dolphins and Whales embedded in glass.
And then all of that Chinese stuff.  So blue and so pretty.  All sitting on my ancient stone built mantle.  It all gleams when it is clean, but a complete pain in the arse when I have to wash it.
And then there are four long tall china Japanese Pots that I bought in Leclerc for five Euros each.  You can find the flaws if you want to look for them, but then I don’t.  They are beautiful .
Obviously none of this rubbish cost me very much.  But I remain an unapologetic clutterer when I see something worth saving for me.

Oh,  The Bell.  Christ  knows where I found that one.  But I am going  to  have to clean the bloody thing tomorrow.  I ignore it mostly, but O’Connor knows it is there.  Rotten Little Shit.  I love him to death.  No really.  I really do.  Something has gone very wrong in my dotage when it comes to The Rotten Little Shit. 
My children may do with it all as they please.  And they might be agreeably surprised to find that Mother wasn’t half as daft as they thought.
Meanwhile I shall go on enjoying it all.  There is much to be said for Things.

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