Day 173 - Old clock

I remember my parents' clock from my childhood. It used to resonate with a cold, steely echo which sounded desolate during the night. When I look at the clock I remember the laminex table and sideboard, the glass coffee table with the bowl of plastic fruit, the macrame decorative wall hanging, and the dried flower arrangement on brass scales. Takes me back.

Day 129 - Flower clock

As far as I can remember, this clock in the gardens on St Kilda Road, across the road from the Gallery of Victoria, has been an ever-changing flower display. At the moment, it's in between plantings, but I've always enjoyed looking at the different, coloured designs.

Day 127 - Cuckoo

Still sorting old junk, this cuckoo clock comes from the Black Forest, Germany (Schwarzwald) and was given to my mother by her best childhood friend in Germany. My mother left Germany at the age of 12, and her friend came to visit her in Australia only 32 years later. My mother's childhood memories of Germany are frozen, sacred memories, and I think that if she ever went back to Germany now, these would either shatter in the face of the real, current Germany, or perhaps, she could find all her memories and bring them to life again.
Notice the antlers have disappeared. At one stage my father thought he was clever by sticking twigs into the head of the deer where the antlers should have been.