-
Bright Things #14: Cat Treat Tin
One of the themes of The Memory Collectors is our relationship to physical objects — the memories, emotions, and power they hold for us. Every week leading up to the book’s release, I’ll share the story of an object that’s special to me.
Once upon a time, this container would sing the Meow Mix jingle when you opened the lid. You know the one: meow meow meow meow etc. The sound would bring our cats running for treats. It was a surefire way to get them off the top of the refrigerator or out from under the bed after I’d committed the terrible sin of vacuuming.
After several years, the song grew decidedly less peppy, and by the time our dear old friend Oberon passed on at the age of 17, it made a sad warbling noise that was frankly a bit creepy. I’ve since pulled out the tiny speaker but we still use the tin, even though it’s dented on one side and doesn’t quite close properly.
It’s a different pair of kitties who come running these days. Turns out the song was unnecessary; the sound of the lid opening is enough to get their attention. Godric here is waiting patiently for me to finish taking photos and open the tin for him. He looks sad but don’t worry, that’s just his face.
Bright Things #13: Ticket Stubs Found in Unexpected Places
One of the themes of The Memory Collectors is our relationship to physical objects — the memories, emotions, and power they hold for us. Every week leading up to the book’s release, I’ll share the story of an object that’s special to me.

Bright Things #12: Red Pot
One of the themes of The Memory Collectors is our relationship to physical objects — the memories, emotions, and power they hold for us. Every week leading up to the book’s release, I’ll share the story of an object that’s special to me.
Bright Things #11: 20 Dates for 2020
One of the themes of The Memory Collectors is our relationship to physical objects — the memories, emotions, and power they hold for us. Every week leading up to the book’s release, I’ll share the story of an object that’s special to me.
So, this is probably the most bittersweet gift I’ve ever received. My husband presented me with this book at the end of 2019. Every page is hand painted with a watercolour illustration on the left side, and an envelope on the right side. Inside each envelope is a gift card or a description of an activity that we can do together. The idea was to get us out more in 2020 :/
We did go on one or two lovely dates before, you know. But I keep the book on my desk where I can see it. First of all, because it’s romantic and thoughtful. And second, because it reminds me that we’re going to have 20 fantastic dates in 2022.
(PS I would also like to brag that in all this time I have not peeked inside any of the envelopes. A true accomplishment.)
Bright Things #10: Family Calendars
One of the themes of The Memory Collectors is our relationship to physical objects — the memories, emotions, and power they hold for us. Every week leading up to the book’s release, I’ll share the story of an object that’s special to me.
Back in 2010, I put together a photo calendar to give to the grandparents for Christmas. Everyone loved them, so we did it again the next Christmas, and the next. Eleven years later and we’re still doing it.
When I was a kid we had boxes of old family photo albums in our attic that I loved to look at. Some of them had wide, black paper pages and photo corners, others (my favourite) those sticky pages and plastic coverings that made a crinkly tearing sound when you opened them (this was long before ASMR was popularized; now I know why it was so satisfying to peel that plastic back and then smooth it down again, carefully in order to avoid air bubbles). I liked looking at old baby pictures of myself and my brother, and seeing glimpses of my parents’ lives before I was born.
The most recent album I have is from our wedding in 2005. Like most people these days, my images are all stored digitally. For better or worse, I rely on Facebook memories to prompt me to look at my daughter’s baby pictures. Except for these calendars. Every time I come across them I find myself flipping through them, just like when I was a kid. They’ve become a physical archive of our family’s story, an unexpected blessing.