I’m fond of the French word, “robinetterie“. In English the translation is “fixtures”. Not quite as intriguing a word, in my opinion. Nor are “plumbing fixtures”, “faucets”, etc. But “spigot“, now that’s a fine word! It conjures the drip, drip, drip… of a leaky spigot.
I know, pretty subjective, and perhaps a little esoteric. But I’m an unabashed connoisseur of words. I appreciate words the way others value gems or cigars or heirloom apple varieties or single barrel bourbon. Ok, I’m pretty fond of the last two as well, but words are my currency. I collect words, romance words, share words. And so far as I’m concerned “spigot” and “robinetterie” are in a class apart.
Leaky Spigot Haiku
Sometimes the soap dish, sometimes the [leaky] spigot, always drip, drip, drip,...
It’d be tough to be an old house enthusiast without appreciating antique and vintage plumbing fixtures. Fortunately Rosslyn’s kitchen, bar, bathrooms, and hose hydrants have undergone years of rehab, replacement, and TLC. But I live a peripatetic existence, and travel taps into my drippy robinetterie nostalgia from time to time. That leaky spigot in the photo above was photographed on July 21, 2014 in coastal Maine. Even now, I recollect my relief at not being responsible for fixing it!
But the seed for this micropoem was planted by another, Matthew Aaron (@_matthew_aaron_), with the following Instagram post. Thanks, Matthew!
Per Matthew, “the soap dish is everything”. Per me, the spigot is everything. It may not even be a leaky spigot, but I’ve exercised some poetic license. After all, the layers of life patinating the oh-so-very vintage robinetterie speak in drips. Can you hear it? Drip, drip, drip,…
Poetic license bled into the visual domain. I’m not 100% able to explain why Matthew’s photo grabbed me the way it has, but I’m grateful for his permission to include both the handsome original and my derivative remix. A wonder-fueled wabi-sabi water faucet. A visual poem of a leaky spigot.
What do you think?