Stuff collects at our house. Take coffee mugs for example. They first took up residence in my kitchen when we bought this house about 5 years ago. I graciously gave them their own shelf in a kitchen cabinet. Now the mugs stretch out over three shelves, the kitchen counter, and on the drain mat in the sink. Mugs have made a migratory journey to the upstairs craft room where they disguise themselves as pen and pencil holders, or as a repository for paintbrushes. Yesterday, I discovered a mug hiding in the refrigerator disguised as a Tupperware container; had its own cute little lid. Cheeky things, mugs.
Some years ago I developed a fascination with wolves. On vacations I picked up the requisite souvenir wolf tee shirts and keychains. Then I discovered lovely photographs of wolves and knew there were bare spots on my walls at home just crying out for these pictures. One picture became a pair of pictures and then a grouping of pictures and suddenly I had a collection of wolf pictures. I ran out of walls. There were wolf pictures in my bathroom, in the hallways, on the wall going up the starway, in my office. Everywhere you looked there was a wolf looking back. Visitors began to make snide comments on my choice of wall art. I took all the pictures down. Okay, I took most of them down. Currently the wolf pictures are stored in an upstairs closet. Occasionally I take them out, lovingly look at them and think about hanging them up again. Then I quickly put them back in the closet and shut the door.
Turtles took the place of wolves. I casually mentioned to someone that I thought turtles were cute in their own way and suddenly turtles arrived at my house. I found myself in possession of resin turtles, plastic turtles, paper turtles, wooden turtles, porcelain and Fenton turtles. I have turtle tee-shirts (do you see a pattern emerging here?) and turtle keychains. I have indoor and outdoor turtles. Even my trusty canine companion has turtle toys. Tortoises to the left of me; terrapins to the right. I don’t really even like turtles. Collections just happen.
Then there are the baskets. I have Longabergers, Henn, Peterboro, Target, WalMart , whoever makes a basket – I’ve bought them. The basket collection started innocently with a few Easter baskets and just like bunnies, the basket collection quickly grew out of control. Devoted Spouse foams at the mouth whenever I linger over a basket for sale. But where else can you put magazines? Or napkins? Or laundry? These things require baskets. Oh I still shop for baskets; Devoted Spouse just thinks I’m at the grocery store.
I’ve been looking in the paper lately at new houses in our area. I think I might need more storage.
