Oh wud some pow'r the giftie gie us
Tae see oursels as ithers see us.
Some while ago, an old friend visited me together with his new French wife, Monique. After a time in my hitchen, where I was preparing a meal for my guests, Monique said "Mais, Jake, vraiment tu aimes les bibelots!"
Until that moment, I was quite unaware of my fondness for "bibelots" - toys - but she was right. On my breadbin, Rupert Bear figurines and a mini Teddy Bear clutching a big red heart, on the mantelshelf in my sitting room, a Paddington Bear, in my bathroom, a whole series of miniatures, including a Good Soldier Schweik and a woolly sheep.
And to cap it all, my boiled egg set consisted of Peter Rabbit plate and saucer and eggcup (apparently this makes me "middle-cless" according to one authority).
So, Monique was right "j'aime les bibelots".
As to why, I neither know nor care. All the bibelots in my possession have a history, and that is my history and the history of the people I have lovcd.