People always ask me what I do with my fossil sharks’ teeth.
“Look at them. Feel them,” I answer.
“Well, where do you put them?”
“In the strangest places possible.”
Yeah, I’m weird. But I try to look at it from the bright side. If I were rich, I’d be considered eccentric.
Living in an area susceptible to tropical storms and hurricanes, it’s rather silly of me to fill the only two hurricane lamps I own with sharks’ teeth. What can I say? Using common sense isn’t my forte. So I’m weird and nonsensical. Great. That explains why I count shadows on the walls and why I have gargoyle bookends.
There are 2,000 sharks’ teeth in one of my lamps and over 1,600 in the other. I categorize my fossil finds according to condition and size and place them into vessels of all kinds.
The teeth in these lamps are what I’ve long called “shamers.” As in: “It’s a shame this tooth has a chip in it,” or, “It’s a shame that tooth is so worn.” These “shamers” range in size from three-eighths of an inch to 2 inches.