Every now and again, when I have nothing better to do with my time, I’ll find myself watching an episode of Hoarders. This nearly always leaves me with a desperate urge to get rid of at least some of the junk I keep in my house, and my collection of wine and alcohol bottles have recently been deposited at the recycling centre, but not before I took this photograph.
The thing is, the object is not the memory: the memory exists independent of the object. Some keepsakes are valuable, but these, I decided, not so much.
There’s the Cointreau that Dad picked up for me when he was flying back from an overseas trip a few years ago, and the bottle of Bundaberg rum that I picked up when I visited a dear friend in ‘Bundy’ in 2015.
There are my first bottles of Zinfandel, Bordeaux, and Chianti; all very exotic here in New Zealand, and therefore worth remembering.
There’s the Moet that was my first (and, to date, only) real champagne, and the port I bought at Ascension Wineries just before I started this blog.
While I admit a part of me is a bit sad to have gotten rid of them, see above re. Hoarders. Sometimes it’s better just to let go, but here’s a picture for posterity. Hello, posterity!