If you've glanced over my sadly neglected blog, you can probably guess what I collect. No it's not dust, empty beer bottles or cooking utensils although I do have those in spades round here. It's not books, or music, again I have plenty of both. So what has me in hunched in the corner, hands clutched to my chest, crooning, "My Precious" as I absently caress the object of my desire? (that sounds way creepier than I meant it to) Give up???
I collect stories.The stories of my family in whatever form they may take.
I have thousands of pictures, letters and cards. All digitized. An un-scanned photo album makes my heart beat faster.
I have hundreds of records: births, deaths, census data, military records, baptisms, report cards, newspaper articles and books of family chronicles.
My favourite is probably the recipes, some handed down for generations.
I also collect things in my garden. To the best of my knowledge I'm the only one who still has the little Scarlet Emperor dahlias my grandmother always grew. I grow marigolds and morning glories for my other grandmother. Half of what I grow reminds me of some one.
And sometimes all it takes is a kiss. My great aunt Shirley was always a little on the dramatic side.
Don't forget tp drop on by Rory's to see what everyone else collects. What's your "precious"?