I have always liked the idea of collections. I collected plates that I thought were pretty back in the 70’s when yard sales were first coming into their own. Yard sales were a super way to fill up spaces in your home with items you normally couldn’t afford. After collecting plates for a few years, I tired of them and sold them in my own yard sale. Ditto for books (I had all of Stephen King and Richard Bachman’s books) salt cellars (usually only footed larges, but smalls if they were interesting looking). Displaying things that I had collected gave me a feeling of pride, for some reason. Oh well, I was very young (well, youngish anyway) and defined myself by the material things that I owned.
When I was moving into my own apartment after my separation and subsequent divorce in 1994-95, I wondered why I needed to have all this stuff. I really didn’t have the space to display them and I had come to a point in my life where clutter was distracting and upsetting. I wanted peace and serenity in my life. I decided that I needed to start a huge “pare down” of everything that I owned. I leafed through all of the books that I still owned, reading snippets here and there, then put them in a box and donated them. Ditto with sugars and creamers that I had still in boxes. I realized then that the best thing to do with my “collections” was to not even look in the boxes, just put them back into the car and take them to the Salvation Army, which was exactly what I did. I opened up the hatch of my 1986 maroon over grey with grey fabric interior and sunroof Ford Mustang (can you tell, I just ‘d that car!!) folded down the back seats and packed it all in, then added more boxes to the passenger seat and floor. I had to tie the hatch down with rope to keep everything inside, but I got it out of my life. Can I tell you how empowering it was to be shed of all of this chaos? It was certainly a bright, bright sun shiney day!! Looking back, I can see that what I was doing was subconsciously giving myself a fresh start, but then I just saw it as less stuff I had to wash and dust, giving me more time to heal and move on.
My house with Sweet Baboo is much calmer, no collections to be seen anywhere. My life is at peace and when I come home at night after work, I don’t feel like I want to tear my hair out in frustration because the house is cluttered. However, I am still somewhat collecting.
While I was sewing, I couldn’t go into a fabric store without coming out with something. I must confess, I bought many, many fat quarters just because I liked the hand of the fabric, or the color caught my eye. I was never sure what I would do with it, I just HAD to have it and I usually found some project or another to work them into. I still have lots and lots of fabric that I know that I should part with, but I’m having trouble purging it just yet. Knitting is my newest enchantment, and I’m happily buying yarn that I love the hand of or it has a color that catches my eye…….. plus all of the gadgets and notions that go along with the craft.
Okay, time to turn the car around and get back to the interstate before I get totally lost.
The collections that I have now are small, take up very little room, and don’t need to be dusted. I like to collect knitting patterns from the internet. Free ones, of course. I also like to collect websites with images on them giving me ideas for things that I may or may not want to knit in the future. Ditto with sewing patterns, although I don’t sew very much anymore. It’s just force of habit.
My strangest collection is collecting and using colloquialisms to amuse the girls at work. Because of the difference in our ages and the fact that I was brought up in a different part of the country, they haven’t heard a lot of the expressions that I use. A couple of the other ladies are my age so they usually know what I mean. For instance — off like a prom dress — play it again Sam — pot calling the kettle black — preaching to the choir — Lucy you got a lot of ‘splaining to do — Captain, she can’t take any more. If I hear a phrase that is familiar to me I will often write it down and then work it into conversation to see if they know what it means. It’s just a fun past time that hurts no one. My very favorite kind.
Would you like to try your hand at scribbling, Sunday or otherwise?
There are lots more scribblings to read HERE