I enjoy reading the different humorous theories about ol’ Otzi.
It reminds me of my kitchen table. It’s a beautiful, solid maple table (from the 40s? 50s? 60s?) that I scored at a thrift shop for 100 bucks. Its simple but interesting style and woodgrain say, “I’m a timeless American classic.”.
It was well cared for. Now it is likely living far from its birthplace.
I sometimes wonder what life it lived. How many homework assignments were done on it? What were Mom’s special recipes? Did it belong to one family, then the younger generation needed to clear out the grandparents’ barn? What family stories does it know? How many secrets?
There’s no price on the mysterious history that came along with the table. Or the wonder it inspires.
:^)