1. Japanese Tea Pot
My favourite time of the day is that waking moment, just-before-the-dawn, when my mind swirls in a pure rapture at the prospect of all the new happenings for the day ahead. My first ‘earthly’ thought is of a refreshing cup of tea, strong and tasteful. It jump-starts me out of bed.
My tea pot combines the dual strengths of solid manufacture with fulsome brewing and has been part of my early-morning ritual for nearly four decades. The nicest moment of my ritual is to sit in the soft morning sunlight and taste that first intoxicating brew.
My tea pot defines that calm, mediative state each morning and the certainty and re-assurance that is instilled through such time-honoured rituals.
2. Mont Blanc Pen
This pen was given to me by a major client when I worked in international capital markets in Frankfurt am Main, Germany. My pen signifies the moment when I finally earned my place in the cut-and-thrust world of global capital markets.
The pen was a personal thank you from my client for helping them on an important bond issue. Mont Blanc pens had legendary status amongst the global traders at the time and being given one was a veritable ‘rite of passage’ to deal-making immortality.
My capital market days have long since passed but I never cease to have a sense of fulfilment whenever I use my pen as it reminds me of what I overcame and how far I travelled from my modest beginnings.
Over the years I have replaced every part of my pen except for the brass tip. But it’s still my pen from my capital market days and all that it represents.
3. My Father’s Joseph Roger Bunny Knife
I never really knew my father. I thought I did because we were a close family and Dad told great stories about his life and all the characters he had met. But now that he is gone I realise that he didn’t share his feelings nor what he thought about many things in life. This knife embodies my father’s life and therefore represents my own life as I grew up, not only in his image, but also in his shadow.
My Dad was born at the start of the Great Depression which also coincided with the peak of the disastrous rabbit plague throughout Australia. Times were tough. People had to rely on their own resources to survive. With the abundance of rabbits, Dad learnt to “harvest” these pests from around his family home on the Hamilton Plains.
He referred to his days in the bush as ‘rabitting’ and, when we were young, Mum, Dad and my brother also went to the bush to go rabitting.
We usually caught dozens of rabbits on each trip and it was Dad’s job to skin each one with his knife. He worked quickly, almost rhythmically, as we passed him the rabbit and held their back legs as he peeled off the skin with quick cuts and slashes. The entire process was masterful and efficient. Mum then packed the carcasses into a large ice box to be later sold to the butcher in town.
The blade of Dad’s knife was engraved with ‘Joseph Roger Bunny Knife, Sheffield England’. Dad always kept it in his pocket and it was worn smooth over the years. He never called it a knife. It was known only as his ‘Joseph Roger’.
The Joseph Roger is from another world, from my father’s world. The knife represents the great values he taught me: resilience, resourcefulness and self-reliance. My brother and I were raised in the bush and Dad’s beloved Joseph Roger is part of that world.
I’m sorry you had to die
To make me sorry
You’re not here now.
– Kingsley Amis
riableathman.com 