I have always wanted a long case clock, aka a grandfather clock. I have no idea why, and I have never shared a house with anyone who understood my craving. To be honest, I’ve never lived anywhere that such a clock would fit. All that has now changed. I have a clock, and it will be joining me in a new (to me) house, where I will take pleasure from looking at it every day. It won’t fit – the clock is from 1938, and the house from 1960-something, but I don’t care.
I find as I get older that I care less about whether things fit, or whether other people will share my taste in objects, clothes or furnishings. So for my new house I have not bought anything sensible. I have a canteen of silver plated cutlery, which I will be using every day. I have a collection of willow-pattern china, which I will also be using even though no two pieces match.
The local antique emporium will be providing a dressing table and a couple of dining chairs. I will buy a bed and a sofa. The previous owner is leaving a ginormous fridge-freezer and a range cooker large enough for a restaurant. As the owner of the grand total of three saucepans and a wooden spoon, I probably won’t get full use from the kitchen…
But who cares? I have a long case clock.