I have been getting troubled by the tam. It is a nice tam. After passing it a few times, abandoned on the path, I just couldn’t leave it for the rain to rain on and the dogs to piss on. But it isn’t mine. And how will its owner find it again?
So I made a sign:
. . . I put my details on it, and I went and put it where I found the tam.
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Good job!
Oh yes, I hope the owner gets in touch with you.
This is a lovely story – I do hope the tam owner sees your message. Please let us know the outcome..
i used to walk my dog behind a fence on the edge of a cliff which clove down into a park in a gorge which cuts through the city. it was the shabby edge of a wealthy neighborhood, and all the muggers came there to steal from the wealthy and often drunk pedestrians. behind the fence and down into the park was their escape route.
sunday mornings especially it would be crowded with things discarded by thieves escaping on foot. wallets with personal stuff like dad’s mass card (money and credit cards gutted). pink knapsacks with birth control pills. one empty shoe. beautiful scarves.
the empty clothing is very disturbing. as you may know the genocide museums put heaps of found shoes, spectacles and other things (skulls, in the case of the cambodians, who went to auschwitz to study how it’s done) to evoke and memorialize unknown dead.
yeah. it’s Big Medicine.
What a lovely thing to do. I always resolve to do similar, as I’m forever loosing my own (handknit) hats. But for some reason I just loose hats, not find them. Bah!
I love this little poster. And the owner may too. I’d be so sad if I was separated from such a lovely thing.
How romantic! It puts me in mind of Sara Varon’s graphic novel Robot Dreams- all about leaving things behind, and the lasting threads which tie owner to object.
Only a child could be so casual about something so pretty. Hope some Mum rings you up.
Aw, it’s like a lost dog poster. What a lovely idea.
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