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| Myself in Nana's backyard with a sword. |
Who does this sword belong to, anyway?
At the time of this photo, my Nana I suppose. Bestowed upon her by the death of her husband, my grandfather, who had died several years before.
My Aunti Kris is in town from Japan to clean out Nana's house. Nana has been moved to a retirement home and her house is going to be on the market soon. With a discerning eye, Aunti Kris pillages the attic, basement, and bedrooms - finding treasures from her parents, her and my mom's childhood, and my own. A lot of the items are gifted away to people who will cherish them. Props are donated to the local theatre where Nana worked, project pieces are donated to the thrifty craft shop down the road, photos are organized and properly stored on family shelves. (They won't find their way to the superjunkfest of the internet or a local yard sale just yet.) We did make time to play with the Little People Village Circus/FireStation/CarWash play set before it went off to its new owner.
Then Aunti Krist found this sword, see? I never knew it existed. My grandfather loved King Arthur and was an avid reader of history. I assume he sourced a lot of these texts while he worked at Barnes & Noble during his retirement. My childish mind too young to imagine him pilfering through historical texts at local bookstores. (Which is now what I believe to be far more accurate.) I guessed this sword was a memorabilia piece of some kind, unpresented in their home decor during my lifetime. Maybe it was a prop from a play? They were actively involved in theatre, too.
Nevermind the suspicions of origin or meaning - the sword becomes an online sales piece and we have a photoshoot with it underneath the pine tree in Nana's backyard. That's what I'm doing here. Dusting it off and exposing some strange piece of my grandfather's niche underground world of interests.
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