Weekend Mishmash: Household Objects

Thanks to Strange Fiction’s recent post about a mysterious household item and Jennifer J. Bennett’s current “object monologue” contest, ordinary objects have fascinated me as of late. So much so that this afternoon I decided to photograph a series of prominent objects in my northern Michigan home – regardless of how much teasing I might have to endure from Bane of Anubis, who believes that I have a camera permanently strapped to my hip.

So, as I labor away on my never-ending book proposal, I wonder if you fine folks are up for the challenge of guessing the following objects. I must warn you, though: As my entry in Jennifer’s contest indicates, I’m not all that mysterious... or challenging. Must work on that.

Household Object #1: In this house, I am on constantly. In fact, I only stopped to pose for this picture. Apparently, I cool the human occupants when necessary, and my rhythmic motion helps to soothe the lady of the house to sleep at night (or whenever she manages to drag herself to bed, which can sometimes be after the sun has already risen). What a weird lady... I often wonder if she’s a vampire.

Household Object #2: Opaque and temperamental, I am used every day – to let loose the sunshine. The human occupants, who met in a fluorescent-lit cubicle hell, thrive on natural light... and their furry feline companion adores outdoor stimuli as well.

Household Object #3: Loud as a foghorn, I work seven days a week, morning and night. You’d think the lady of the house would give me a rest every now and again, but she’d be lost without me – in fact, she’d run out of steam, and her work would suffer.

Household Object #4: The kitty who lives here inadvertently turns me on all the time – no wonder there’s so much cat hair on my surface. The human occupants don’t power me up nearly as often as they used to – the digital age has rendered me less useful than I once was. But they still keep me at the ready – and I have it on good authority that the lady of the house will use me soon. I overheard something about a novel and a red pen.

Household Object #5: Vibrant and rife with primary colors, I’m not the largest thing in the house, but I’m certainly not the smallest either. A wobbly perch of sorts – assembled and disassembled many times – I sit beside the patio doors, waiting for someone tiny enough to curl upon me and watch the world go by. Of course, this same playmate often prefers instead to leap through my holes and attack the balls that hang from my detachable plastic rods... that is, until a sparrow or chipmunk appears outside the window. She is easily distracted.

Household Object #6: No human uses me in this house, but I remain in their office, waiting to be swayed. I conjure up good memories for the lady of the house, who once had a tiny version of her mother’s version of me, but the only occupant who ever interacts with me is the furry one, the one I’ve dubbed “The Attacker of Legs.”

So, what do you say? Can you guess what these objects are? Told you it was easy!