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. 


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