An old coat is a treasure?

Treasures, treasures. What do they look like? In my latest books they look like priceless paintings and rare violins. I’ve been mulling over the notion that treasures can be much smaller, much plainer, more ordinary to the average Joe. Every day when I pull into my driveway, I remember my old ’89 Toyota. How I treasured that car! The paint was failing, the interior ruined, with nary a fancy high tech button to be found, but it was my prize. My first major independent purchase, I loved that old hunk of metal which I recently donated to the animal rescue foundation after the final interior door handle broke off. Sigh. Another treasure of mine? My old brown coat. I put on that ragged thing every morning before sunup to walk the dog. It might have been fashionable fifteen years ago, but now it’s just plain dated. The pockets are perfect to hold kleenex, my phone and pepper spray in case we encounter the odd rabid dinosaur. The hood can be cinched in if it’s cold and Nala, my dog, has never once pointed out the stain on the elbow. It’s a treasure to me that would, no doubt, be completely worthless to anyone else.

Do you have any treasures like that? Precious items that are dear to you and only you? Do comment and you’ll be entered in the November drawing for a gift card and signed book. Winner announced Nov. 30th.

5 responses to this post.

  1. Posted by JOYE on November 23, 2012 at 8:03 pm

    I have a set of portraits of my twin sister and me through the years. My mother always had our photo take on our birthdays. I have the first 20. After that, it was hard to get together for the sittings. It really highlights how we changed though the years.

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  2. Posted by Ben S. on November 23, 2012 at 2:36 pm

    Before I was born, my father worked in an aluminium factory in Pittsburgh. He made hand rails used in airports. Based on these raw materials, he also handcrafted a candle holder. Now this thing looks crude, and obviously made with parts meant for something else. My dad has been gone for almost twenty years, but everytime I see his handiwork, I have a warm feeling. It probably is my most precious possession.

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  3. Posted by Olga on November 19, 2012 at 5:52 pm

    Without a doubt, my dad’s painting. And I loved your story about the rare violin, Dangerous Melody! Great book!

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