Why does the mere fact of collecting things into boxes give so many of us a thrill? Is it the fact that we are organizing the stuff, junk, crap, treasure, heirlooms, etc? Or is it simply that we have the things in a compact spot for our eyes only? And why does the act of collecting this stuff, junk, crap, treasure, heirloom give us pleasure? My father collected junk, my grandfather collected junk, my Aunt Sally collected junk – I think I come by it along the branch of the proverbial apple tree. Of course, my collections are special. Magazines with beautiful, glossy pictures of rooms and gardens for which I could never live a life long enough or many enough to duplicate for myself. But definitely the nesting fantasies I feel when I look at these pages give me that sense of pleasure that I cannot describe. I collect shells and wine corks – shells because I can physically pick up and bring home with me a piece of the beach, any beach, where I feel so connected. Wine corks – for the silliness of it. I will NEVER make a trivet or craft from them – I just like to see them all in a basket. It’s amazing.
My china cabinet is full of collected stuff, junk, crap, treasure and heirloom as well. And when I open the door, it smells of pepper from when it used to sit in my grandmother’s house filled with her treasures. That smell brings a smile to my face every time I open the cabinet door – I think of my grandmother and her snow white hair, twinkley eye and Scottish brogue.
My attic is filled with plastic bins of collected stuff, junk, crap, treasure and heirloom too. An odd assortment of holiday decor, but most treasured are the things from my daughter’s childhood. I will never throw away that picture with the macaroni tree or the hand print made of pudding (bugs are long gone from both). Her collection of plastic horses that made up her world for so much of her childhood and fostered her imagination that has formed her into a fabulously talented, thinking young woman. Yes people, I attribute that collection to all of that!
Unfortunately for my daughter, friends and family, these collections of stuff, junk, crap, treasure and heirloom will stay with me until the end of my days. And when all of you go through it some day and laugh, cry and get angry, please remember all the collected stuff, junk, crap, treasure and heirloom all of you have in your nooks and crannies. But most especially, think of me and know the small pleasures my collections gave to me.
