11/Objects

After reading Billy Collins' poem "Ode to a Desk Lamp" I thought I should write about mine. But Billy and his lamp have a long and storied history, whereas my desk lamp is number 8 or 9 in a series of desk lamps, and, to be honest, in its own way just as unsatisfactory as numbers 1 through 7 (or 8).

10/Objects

The price of the Attic Heirlooms oak armoire was $800 in the furniture store where I'd shopped before. I learned North Carolina furniture factories sell direct. I got a price, and went back to the store. "I can buy it online for $600 tax-free. I'll buy it from you if you sell it to me for $570 plus tax." He did.

9/Objects

Mirror, mirror . . . most of the mirrors in my house started out somewhere else. One wooden mirror was an antique shop find. Ditto a gilt one. The delicately ornate bronze mirror came from my Scottish step-family's apartment in the Bronx. The faintly nautical round mirror was from my childhood home in Queens; the full-length mirror from our newlywed apartment in Midtown Manhattan.

Note: I just discovered Word counts an ellipsis (at least the way I write it) as three words. I do not.

8/Objects

Sitting on my desk, the small screwdriver with the yellow handle serves two purposes. One is to pry open the humidity-damaged slides my father mounted under glass, at the time thinking it would protect them long-term. (This was before he moved to Florida.) Freed from the glass, they can be wiped clean. The screwdriver's other purpose is to open stubborn pistachios.

7/Objects

My desk chair doesn't look crooked (I don't think), but it you sit in it you know right away something isn't right. You'll list to the left, just as I do. (The scoliosis I've apparently had all my life was never obvious or painful; now it's both.) My grandsons spin in my chair. So I haven't been using my new one.

6/Objects

My non-Apple smartphone (I'm not an Apple fan) is clever and pretty to look at, but I'm rarely interested. With multiple computers and tablets, I'm always connected at home. When I go out, I want to disconnect. I like having a lifeline if needed in an emergency, but otherwise I don't want to be bothered. I don't want to be found.

5/Objects

"There are two kinds of photographers," my dad once said, "artists and equipment men. I'm an equipment man." I said, "No, you're an artist." But one can be both. I saw this over and over at the photography site where I used to hang out. I say "used to" because whenever I visited I developed a painful case of lens envy.

4/Objects

I started juicing vegetables in the 1970's. Stopped in the 1970's too. I resurrected my Acme Juicerator around 2010 and became faithful about juicing. Saw a Breville juicer in a documentary and had to have one. Bought one. Thoroughly disliked it. Read about masticating juicers. Spent a gift card and all my Amazon points on an Omega J8004. Love this thing!

3/Objects

The length of cherry-red corduroy came from a high-end fabric outlet 35 years ago. I envisioned a little jumper with cute buttons, size 6X. I never sewed it. The corduroy has languished in my attic all this time. Thursday I put it in my Salvation Army donations bag; Friday I retrieved it. Pogo the cat needed a cushion for his bed.

2/Objects

The plumber arrived this morning to fix my leaky kitchen faucet. It's a Delta Waterfall, purchased in 2002. I'm attached to it. I love the wide, soaring curve of its spout, though I'm sure some would call it dated. I call it beautiful. I bought a new one, exactly like the old, just in case. But it's still in the box.

1/Objects

An old upright 1888 piano came with this old upright 1860 house. A mouse family lived in a nest inside it. I found a treasure of a piano tuner who restored the piano's interior to its former glory, and I started to play by ear again, something I hadn't done since childhood. It became my daily meditation, my medication, my cardio.