Countries all over the world have iconic structures, plants, and even animals. India has the Taj Mahal and sacred cows. Ireland has Hill of Tara (and lots of other places), along with shamrocks (sham-rogue). Bern, Switzerland, also has its own icons that stand out. This past summer was exceptional in representing: St. Bernards. These are truly immense dogs made famous for rescuing people trapped in snow. The brandy cask is wishful thinking, not accurate.
During our visit to our daughter, we discovered an astounding number of St. Bernard artistic statues all over the city. We bounded around trying to find new statues, photos in all of 20 massive dogs.
Skully
Bernadette
Timmy
Each monument was given a name. My favorite was "Timmy", the cheetah above. Not so much for the cheetah paint, but for the name. Every Timmy I have known has been a boy, like in the show "Lassie".
We thought we had done so well with our twenty sightings, but we soon found out that there were one-hundred and twenty all over the city. They were even on roofs.
This live St. Bernard was with his owner who was showing and explaining more about this magnificent creature along old town streets.
All collections reach a stage
when they must move on, or rather, move out.
Circle of Life rationale? Perhaps.
Collections gain icon status
after a while. My mother wore this hat to her son’s wedding…This was my
great-grandmother’s baby cup…This was my grandpa’s chucking peg for the corn….
The icon status must be broken,
or else the icon kicks into Holy Grail status. And then, Lord help us, the Holy Grail will be
wrapped in soft layers of wool and packed away until the box itself falls
apart.
This established, many icons are
heading out the door and onto someone who will hold one and say, “I wonder what
the story is about this?”
Here are some photos of personal
icons. Some are in the car, ready to
relocate. Others will linger a while.
All the hats and vintage clothing in the car---the pink hat was my mother's and she wore it to my brother's wedding.
This is an honest-to-goodness-leopard-skin hat....we did not kill the leopard...long story will appear sometime.
These three hats belonged to men...the camouflage "Calhoun County Ford" belonged to my father...The "U.S.S. Kearny DD-432 WWII" belonged to my husband's father...The white cap "Williams' Boots & Coots Hazardous Fire" belonged to my brother. All three men are deceased, and these hats may grow close to Holy Grail Status.
One would think that a girl living on a farm, surrounded with procreating animals followed later by animals giving birth would have a down-to-earth understanding of sex and how things work. I believe that is what normally should happen. However, on my father’s farm, my sister and I were kept away from all the “action”. Why, I don’t know. I think the whole sex thing embarrassed my dad, and he preferred that animals copulating remain a mystery.
Words fail me.
Even so, there are hormones that won’t be denied. While I didn’t comprehend the how and where of sex, I sure understood that I wanted to know. There was something that went beyond just smiling and gazing at the boys, but I just didn’t have a clue what that was. I knew that when Dr. Kildare was on TV, both my mother and I sat down and paid attention to every word he said. While I was in this beginning stage of yearning for that unspoken action, I watched “The Ten Commandments” on television.
No, it wasn’t Charleton Heston who pulled me in through the television screen. It was Yul Brynner.
I can not explain it to you, but something about the intensity of his eyes, the seductive prowling walk, the powerful exotic voice, and the commanding dominating presence…the way his hands reached for the woman, and how his mouth devoured…whew, is it hot in here or is it just me??
Yes, my King! Whatever you say!
Since those beginning yearning/lustful stirrings, I obsessed on all things-Yul Brynner. Any movie that had his name in the credits, any newspaper or magazine cutting, or even other bald headed men (except for Telly Savalas), I was hooked. This obsession continued throughout my life, I confess.
In 1975, when I was eight months pregnant with our first child, my husband and I went to see Yul Brynner (sigh) performing in “The Odyssey” in Los Angeles. All during the performance, while having Braxton-Hicks contractions, I kept my eyes glued on him.
Years later, in October 1984, we sat in orchestra row 5, seats D and E, where we watched a matinee performance of “The King and I” in Hollywood. We were sooo close to the stage; I could make out every detail of his face, the ripple of muscles in his arms, the…oh, my. Turn on the fan, somebody.
The Magnificent Seven
Even though Yul Brynner died on October 10, 1985, and I am a grandmother, I still watch his movies and sigh at the enigmatic sexual power he possessed. I wonder if all people have an iconic figure that is integral in the coming of age awareness which happens with hormones. Hmmm…I will ask around… Thanks to the A-Z Blogfest team, who have bravely taken on the month of April! Go to the link below to check out other blogs! http://tossingitout.blogspot.com
