Digging holes for precious somethings


October 3, 2010 by jessperriam

“I should like to bury something precious in every place where I’ve been happy and then, when I was old and ugly and miserable, I could come back and dig it up and remember”

– Evelyn Waugh: Brideshead Revisited

I’m going to be the first to admit that I have no idea where I’m going with this post.

I read this quote (in one of the Thirty before Thirty books) in a quiet moment (there weren’t many) on the South West road trip. And I guess it sums up how I feel about life at the moment.

To a point.

I’m in a very happy place right now. An uncertain-ish kind of place, but a happy, wonder-filled place nonetheless.

I think I would soon run out of precious somethings to bury, such is the sheer volume of places I’ve been happy. There would be holes all over the place, some in the strangest, potentially inappropriate places.

There would be a Stevie Wonder album in a hole where the Forrest Highway and Kwinana Freeway meet to mark the moment of happiness when The Lawyer and El Presidente played Sir Duke from their car stereo, down the line to Red’s phone on loudspeaker in my car. Call it a low-quality, high-hilarity phone call sing along.

There would be a button in a hole in the backyard of a cottage in Wagga Wagga to ¬†symbolise many, many happy moment spent being creative, growing up and exploring during a brilliant time of mine, Lauren and Nick’s life.

I’d get the shovel out in what’s now a stranger’s front yard in Orange and bury a SingStar microphone just outside the window where Amy and I no doubt serenaded many, many bemused neighbours with John Farnham’s You’re the Voice or Alice Cooper’s Poison on Fast Food Fridays.

And there would be myriad other holes, and an equal amount of precious things to go in them.

And I said I agreed with the quote to a point. I’d love to bury things to mark the happiness.

But as for being old and ugly and miserable? I’m going to get old. Hopefully I won’t become (too) ugly. And miserable? Certainly not! I would hate to think that life and sheer time wears you down to misery.

I’d rather get my hands dirty way down the hypothetical track in order to fondly reminisce rather than bitterly remember.

Where would you dig your holes and what precious somethings would you put in them?


5 thoughts on “Digging holes for precious somethings

  1. Peter Perriam says:

    How about:
    – a billy cart wheel in the backyard at 13 Agnes Street Mt Gambier to signify the glorious escapades of Brian & Peter P as we hurtled (individually) in the billy cart from the front driveway, down through the back lawn and over a ship dip into the garden beds , all the while wearing Uncle Charlie’s old leather flyng helmet and some goggles. What a sight.
    – a pair of roller skates at 2 Lansell Street, Mt Gambier in remembrance of our daredevil roller skating antics down the side of the house next to Mrs Katchor’s with a 90 degree turn at the very bottom. Many a skun knee there.
    – a deck of cards at 54 Deanmore Road Scarborough in memory of the lovely times we had playing canasta with Grandma Miller on her visits to Perth – along with the Whittock and Barry Martin
    – mum and dad P in the backyard at 4 Vernon Street Trigg (not for many years to come yet I hope). Something, or rather some ones who are very precious to me.
    Otherwise the newspaper photo of a bikini clad Ms Smith that adorned the chest of drawers next to my bedside (truly it was only for the appendectical scar, and a possible future profession in medicine, that I attached it there).
    – the purple shaggy bed quilt from 59 Seaflower Crescent ( a real chick puller that ???). Went well with the white shag pile carpet and the purple lamp shade in the master bedroom – NOT.

    Aaahhhh reminiscing. Something one does more and more of as one gets older.

  2. recycledrose says:

    i am sure there are already many buttons stuck in the wooden floor boards in wagga thanks to you jess! hehe

  3. Carol Perriam says:

    I would bury a sixpence and a three pence in a paddock in North Fremantle for all the stirring of the christmas puddings and family christmas’ celebrated at Granny’s house there. Also I would dig a hole at Leighton beach up near the cable station and put in a hand full of shells and sea washed glass pieces for all the Saturday walks that we had with our grandfather along that stretch of beach. Lastly an empty wine bottle in every wine region that we have visited around Australia. The wines were good and not to many hangovers.

  4. Lisa says:

    Jess. This has to be my favorite blog (and associated comments) so far!

    What would I bury?
    * a smore near an isolated lake in Northern Wisconsin…
    * a tile in an empty lot in Winthrop, the location of our famed cubby – the Taj Ma-hut…
    * a deck of cards spread throughout a myriad of locations to commemorate our many card playing nights…
    * a lollipop in the bush near Byford, to remember the many holidays and weekends spent with cousins generally running amuck…
    * a few fireworks in deserted industrial parks to honour a great after-church tradition of illegal pyrotechnics…

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