Sunday, March 27, 2011


Apparently if you have more than two of something you can call it a collection.  Was Noah must the first person to start collecting?  When The Dancing Queen gave me a piece of pink depression glass I immediately remembered a piece given to me by another dear friend.  Of course the second piece had to be wrapped carefully and taken to Shoestring Cottage from our apartment, so that they could cluster together.  Now whenever I look at them I have a desire to add a third piece so that I have a collection.

Why do we have this desire to form collections, I wonder?  Some people are immune to this strange compulsion, but most have a collection of one kind or another, though they may be loath to admit it.  Even Mr Shoestring, that most practical of fuming beans, has a collection of Bakelite objects of which he is inordinately fond.  Recently he started a collection of old kitchen utensils, but not just any old kitchen utensil will do.  They have to have wooden, red painted handles. 

 (Though strangely that seems to have led on to a subsidiary kitchen implement collection, old fashioned “quicksie” makers which you heat over the element on the stove to create toasted sandwiches.  The first time he experimented with them we ended up with a piquant charcoal and sweetcorn combo but he has since mastered the art of keeping an eye on them while they are cooking.) 

Another friend who visited during the weekend tells me she collects old peanut butter and marmite glasses and also egg cups, but there is a very strict price restriction on them resulting in the need for some touch up paint jobs to the egg cups involving twink and lipstick from time to time.  Lady Raglan started a collection of old aprons when she moved to the country, but this may have been a reaction against her aristocratic lineage.

Whatever it is that we choose to collect, the thrill of the chase can give us such pleasure and the feeling that the next big find may be just around the corner justifies those endless hours spent pawing through charity shops and flea market stalls; we just know that the perfect piece is out there somewhere, waiting for us.