What I'd leave behind...
This is not so much a story of the most treasured possessions I'd save, it's about what I'd leave behind.

Being the type to always consider worst case 'it's all going to go very wrong' scenarios, whilst staying in a pokey hotel in Paris recently I had to ponder on the very real matter that if there was a fire, I would definitely burn or die of smoke inhalation.

There were no fire exits to speak of, except for at the bottom of the only flight of stairs in the building (otherwise known as the front door), and my room had tiny windows with bars on the outside that an anorexic cat would have problems slinking through.

So on the two sleepless nights I spent in our room (that you also couldn't swing an anorexic cat in - Hotel du Londres incase you need a place to avoid when visiting gay Paree), I started wondering if even at the tender age of 23, I should write a will if at some point one of my paranoid ponderings actuated itself.

So, the things I would leave to people (more in the way of instructions):

- A story written by my Grandma when I was a tot, about a family of rabbits (who coincidentally featured a Betty Lou - I couldn't believe the chances of that). The rabbits were terrorised in their homes and were forced to dig their way to freedom elsewhere - it was a fusion of 'The Animals of Farthing Wood' and 'The Fantastic Mr Fox' and I truly believe it should be published - this I would instruct should I never get around to it myself.

- A work of art I produced when I was 18 for my A Levels. It's a diptych, featuring a jungle scene and it measures about 2 metres wide by 1 metre in length. My parents have been slyly trying to get rid of it since I left home six years ago. I'd insist I was remembered through its display on their lounge wall for all to see, everyday. That'll teach them to turn my bedroom into a sports therapy clinic/home gym as soon as I arrived at uni, leaving me to kip in my brother's old cabin bed on home visits.

- Every present I've ever received from my best friend would be returned to her. I love her deeply, I've known her since birth so she's more of a sister to me. And yet every year, without fail, she'd give me something horrendously ugly as a birthday or christmas present and seemingly have no idea it's not really my type of thing. She knows we're like chalk and cheese yet still buys things she likes, for me. I, in return, try my best to find things she likes and sometimes I do get it wrong, but I'll give her the receipt and she'll unashamedly exchange it. Bah.

*First post so be nice.
(BettyLou, Tue 13 May 2008, 13:23, 1 reply)

re the presents
If you've still got them all, you could just give them back to her, one by one, every birthday and Christmas.

either that or get her a garden gnome every year like me and my mate do.
(happylittletulip helpless and delicious, Tue 13 May 2008, 13:33, closed)