After nearly 50 years of wedded bliss (Is that an oxymoron?) I've become quite the connoisseur, collector you might say, of many miscellany knick-knacks, tchotchkes, and gewgaws. I'm working on becoming a reformed collector, but it takes time and there are no twelve-step programs for someone like me. I think another 50 years ought to do it. Not to mention the threats from David to stop cluttering up the place. Anyway, he shouldn't talk. I don't gripe about his garage or shed. Ha! Ha!
I have managed to accumulate a rather eclectic collection of many mostly useless dust catchers. Sure, it started innocently enough. When I was newly married an aunt had a collection of decorative plates that hung all around her kitchen. I thought they looked kind of neat and before long I found myself scouring thrift stores looking for commemorative plates. I was obsessed to the point of being first in line at garage sales where I was usually able to procure a plate or two. Sometimes I'd nab a few teacup and saucer sets that I'd never use. I couldn't resist because they were cute. (P.S. Those garage sales ladies can get quite snippy when one shows up at 6 a.m.) When my aunt passed, I was thrilled to be the lucky recipient of her collection. David not so much. It never occurred to me at the time to ask why her children had not received this largesse, so before I knew it, my entire kitchen walls no longer had a bare space. It was either find something else to replace my current obsession with something smaller or buy a larger house.
David put his foot down when they threatened to spill into the living room, so I switched to spoons. They're small, fairly inexpensive, and don't take up much room – that is until your collection starts to number in the hundreds. Family and friends got wind of my new obsession and before I knew it I received a spoon every time one of them went out of town. I now have four spoon cabinets hanging in my kitchen (but no plates!) which are now threatening to take over.
Since collecting spoons doesn't take up much time or attention, I started collecting – drum roll, please – golf balls. When David and I play golf at a new course, the first thing I do is, surprise, surprise, visit the pro shop where I admire all the golf paraphernalia. Others also gifted me with some so I now have two display cases in my office full of logo golf balls. It's hard for the grandsons to understand why they can't play with them. It's mainly because they'd throw them, break something and I'd have to get on to them. I hate doing that, so I try to keep them out of their reach. Anyway, I'm in dire need of another case if someone needs a gift idea.
When I was young and had nimble fingers and coordination, I started quilting, and anyone who does any sort of sewing knows what happens next. I cannot enter a fabric store without 'delusions of competency' taking over my body and I start gathering a buggy full of things needed for a project I most likely will never finish. My craft closet is stuffed full of material so if anyone is ever in need of some antique polyester or double-knit fabric, I've got you covered.
Another collection involves cookbooks. I have dozens of cookbooks stuffed into an old China cabinet which gave me an excuse to buy a new one (China cabinet, I mean). I don't use them; I just like reading them when I'm bored and cannot resist buying another one anytime I spot one in an antique store or one that promises I can eat well and lose weight. I have a couple dozen of those. They might be of better use if I actually made any of the recipes. The problem is most of them call for way too many ingredients I don't usually buy. I also have cake decorating cookbooks, dessert cookbooks, a couple of old Betty Crocker cookbooks, and a few cookbooks from South America. I might get them out someday and try a few recipes, but probably not.
There's hope for me yet. Now when I see something that might be collectible, I just say to myself, 'Self,' I say, 'Where in the heck would you put it? You have no more shelf or wall space.' That, and threats from David, usually does the trick and I'll come home empty-handed. Most of the time. Well, some of the time. Okay, I'm a work in progress. I can't change overnight. Give me a break.