Untethered sentimentality

There are loads of reasons to feel sentimental about objects and places. I still have drawers full of the girls' drawings from the days when they'd all sit 'round the dining table at Blackberry Hill with a big tub on pens in the middle. I can't say I ever look at the pictures but I couldn't bear to throw them away. The attachment arises from the fact that my little girls drew them.

(I have a similar problem with all my old vinyl, which I never play, but I have found a solution to this: I'm going to give it all to a friend who loves vinyl. Well, maybe I'll keep all my old Kraftwerk LPs. And that signed copy of 'Empires and Dance'.)

Sometimes we get sentimental about things because they provide a connection back to a time and a place, or to a person, of course. And then there are photos, which can have sentimental value because of what they show us, not because of what they are.

This flower has been on my windowsill for a few months now. It's completely dried out but I can't bear to throw it away because.... why? I can't remember who put it there. The Minx, maybe? Or did I put in there because it came from a particular bunch of flowers?

Whatever its history, I feel a sentimental connection to this little flower but I can't think why.