When I was a young girl, my grandmother had all sorts of random knickknacks around her house that were baffling to an 11year old girl. Several of these came in the form of decorative owls in various 1970s hues and form, each worse than the last.
(Can you say macrame?) It seemed utterly baffling to me that some random bird would be seen as a recurring decorative device for no particular reason. Nevertheless, I have watched through the years as various aunts, my mother, and other women in my life followed an alarming trend: it seems like at some age, many women select a particular animal they are fond of for whatever reason, and slowly and stealthily begin decorating their home with it. Having watched various incarnations of chicken tchotchkes spread across my mother’s home in recent years, I vowed I would never be the same!
And then yesterday, as Bruce and I were milling around China Town waiting for our movie time, I saw it!
An adorable hand-carved mango wood trinket dish looking up at me like a puppy in a window, asking to come home with me and hold my earrings at night.
I was helpless. I had to buy it. Upon showing the purchase to Bruce, he gave me one of those quizzical man looks, and asked what it was? When I explained, he rolled his eyes, and said something along the lines of, “Uh, ok…” and then muttered something to himself about “totally useless objects.” But, I know that my grandma would totally approve.
I may even name it Max in honor of Grandma Maxine, and the unique things that occasionally serve to remind me that I am her granddaughter. One thing is for sure – it makes me smile every time I walk by it.