Years ago when I was walking down a street I found a scarf on the ground. It was beautiful silk with a lovely pattern, in perfect condition. I wasn’t the scarf wearing type (still more a bandana girl), but it was too pretty not to keep and there wasn’t exactly a lost and found I could take it to.

So many of my favorite things are rooted in childhood memories. I am built and maintained by how I choose to remember the past. Little purses remind me of grandmothers and souvenir shops, a small space for treasures and secrets.

With cooler weather here, my seasonal shift from sock stock piling to sock wearing has begun — visual pull is now joined by a call for comfort and warmth. I love the magical time when hoarding has a pay-off.

I have a few hoarding weaknesses. Despite existing inventory, space, or need -- show me a chair, a glass, a purse -- there is a strong gravitational pull to buy. I try to exercise a lot of restraint and have gotten better as I've gotten older. Shiny though...