I Am A Collector

© By Tom (tomWYO@aol.com)



Boxes and piles, heaps of junk,
All so important to me,
But to those who pass it by,
Just heaps of worthless junk.


A collector I do be,
For one day this I may need.
Cannot throw away anything,
For one day it I may need.


And so a year of collecting
Really ain’t bad,
Then a lustrum and a score,
Now it is beginning to pile up


What are you going to do
With all of that junk?
No a collector I do be,
This stuff one day I may need.

 

 


I Am A Collector


© By Sharon (Sunyskys1943@aol.com)



Under the table and under the bed
Dust bunnies collect I hang my head
But bunnies are so cuddly cute
And they don't eat much and are quite mute


They don't bark like some noisy old dog
Nor do they make a sound like a frog
They don't bite or itch as would a flea
No bringing dead mice as gift for me


Dust bunnies just lie there me oh my
Not buzzing around as dirty fly
They don't scratch as might a kitty cat
They go by the names of Kate and Mat

 

 


I Am A Collector
© By Francesca (Frannie516@comcast.net)



When I first went online back in 1996, for a couple of years I saved every single email that I received. Where to put them all posed a dilemma. I finally purchased a three-hole punch and punched every sheet, placing the sheets into large loose-leaf binders, by category. The categories included inspirational pages, funny pages, risque pages, recipes, pictures, grandchildren and children, animal subjects, etc. I filled up a four-shelf bookcase with binders containing emails.

I suddenly realized that this could be a lifelong project and I would soon run out of room for all these emails. I emptied all the binders and threw away the pages. Enough was enough. Did Jane from Peoria care if I kept her mail or not? I don't think so.

I have a collection of bells (china, crystal, silver and brass). I've recently started collecting blue and white pottery, china, plates, bowls and vases. No, they are not Ming Dynasty or Blue Willow, but you'd never know. They add beauty to the blue and white kitchen and make me happy.

I don't save anything. Everything goes into the trash. If I toss something out and then I realize I needed it, I just purchase another one. It doesn't happen often. I have always strived to be clutter-free. However, I've married a man who saves everything and I've had to learn to compromise.

When I first arrived in Georgia, I had visions of a sophisticated and luxurious decor, much like you'd see in Southern Living magazine. I quickly changed my plan so it's more like Country Living magazine, very relaxed and comfortable with a dash of clutter to make it feel like home. I like it much better. Nothing matches anything else, but it all works together and creates a pleasant atmosphere.

You have to learn to compromise in this life. My husband doesn't notice the dust that collects everywhere, and I don't notice the piles of his papers on the living room couch.



 

 


The Collection

© By RickMack (Rmrickmack@aol.com)



I am an avid collector of telephone books. This is a hobby that I became hooked on a very long time ago. Each year, when the heavy new books came out in our city, and there being no arrangement for recycling the old books, folks were simply throwing their phone books in the trash. I was appalled by the ecological waste factor, taking into consideration the countless trees that had been cut down to provide pulp for these tomes.

Eventually, taking a proactive role, I bought an ad in the local newspaper, requesting that old phone books be piled next to the nearest fire hydrant on Saturday mornings for one month. I offered to pick up these disgarded books each weekend. I was delighted with the response.

Faithful to my commitment, I spent many grueling hours driving my van around the city, collecting the piles of books. In no time at all, I had filled my garage, basement, attic, and storage shed in my back yard. The project was a huge success, and I was elated to have made such a contribution to environmental matters. The local landfill would surely benefit from the absence of thousands of phone books meant for burial there.

When my wife caught me stacking books under the beds, she laid down the law to me. As far as she was concerned, enough was enough. I tried to reason with her, pointing out that she would no longer need to dust under the beds, as I would pile them to the very bottoms of the box springs. With a grimace and a shudder, she countered with the likelihood that the aging paper and glue would attract silver fish insects. That disgusting notion gave me pause.

Clearly, I had to come up with a plan. Collecting thousands of phone books did present problems that I hadn’t considered. For days, I walked around my property, straightening up piles of books and pondering the dilemma. Then it came to me!

I rushed off to the local paint supply store and purchased a dozen gallon cans of shellac and a handful of cheap brushes. I also bought a hundred cans of spray paint in various colors, mostly beige, gray, and pastels. Then, I got to work.

As it happens, I own several acres of rural land, adjoining a lovely lake, about thirty miles drive from the city. Time and time again, I loaded my van with phone books and hauled them to my wooded hideaway, where I also had a mobile home on site. I set up my operation under the roofed carport next to the house trailer. One by one, I weighted down a phone book under a cement block and brushed a coat of shellac on the sides of each book. Later, when that coat had dried, I moved the book to coat the top, bottom and spots that I missed. Finally, I added a second coat of shellac all over.

Now this seems more tedious than it actually was, because I was working on a couple of dozen books at a time, limited only by the number of cement blocks that I had on hand. Interestingly enough, these plain rough blocks were intended to be used in building a garage, a project I had been procrastinating on, and soon to be improved on.

The fresh air at lakeside, usually stirred by a mild breeze, did much to hasten the project, drying surfaces in no time at all. Lastly, I repeated the process using two coats of spray paint on the books. I was quite pleased with the finished products. The stacks of painted books looked much like those colorful patio blocks, that are used for paths or walls.

In a matter of days, I had the carport piled high with these “blocks”. Then the fun began, as I mixed mortar to start building my retirement home. Since that time, seventeen years ago, I have continued to collect phone books, and now own seventeen unique cottages interconnected with a colorful network of yellow block walkways, along the west shore of the lake. These, I rent out from Memorial Day to Labor Day every year. I call the popular resort community, Pages’ Place.




I Am A Collector


© By Norma (Twi1ite@sbcglobal.net)



Oh, I'm a collector, good and true,
Work at it every day.
Rise in the morning, put on my shoes,
Plan to collect that day.


Aside from miniature houses and homes,
A miniature barn, cat and pig.
Collecting my thoughts is my main continuum,
Working at it, my uppermost gig.

 






I Do Not Collect


© By Swampetta (SWAMPETTA@aol.com)



I do not collect....I fling!
Likely to toss out anything.
The Troll has rooms of books,
All alphabetized, the way it looks.


The recycle bin knows me well.
As I toss it in all pell-mell.
All that stuff takes up space.
Pushing me out of this place.


Only thing I keep and not share,
Is when I breathe and keep the air.
There is one thing I have and that's
All the extra fuzz from all 9 cats!

 






I Am A Collector


© By Marilyn (LaraOct7@aol.com)



I have always been a collector. When I was in my teens, I collected miniature ceramic dogs. I had ceramic dogs, wooden dogs, and dogs made of glass. When I married I sewed a lot and collected fabrics. I had jars of old buttons, spools of thread, thimbles, and lace. When my daughter became interested in sewing, specifically quilting, I gave my fabrics and notions to her.

Over the years I have collected china cups and saucers, Waterford crystal, and Hummels. I still have these, but I don't have many.

Now I collect digital photographs and books. I love books but I'm running out of shelf space.

Is collecting a good thing, or is it an addiction? Whatever the case, I Am A Collector.

 






I Am A Collector


© By Brier (Brierhillbarbara@aol.com)



I do collect things but mostly I try to collect memories. I use my camera to help me remember.

Well, I collect angels and bears and cook books. I also collect Mickey Mouse stuff. Then too, there is my spoon collection, mostly from states in USA.

I try to do some scrapbooking too. One of my best collections is people, I like people so I try to talk to and enjoy the company of people.

Oh my gosh, I almost left out my doll collection , many of them are porcelain Barbies. My 3 granddaughters love to see all my dolls and invite them to come for tea. They also enjoy my mini tea-set.

A long time ago I started a stamp collection for one of the children. I must not forget my post card collection and my paper doll collection.

Gee, I didn't realize how much stuff I have collected. It is one of my favorite things, collecting . I check out flea markets and yard sales. I enjoy the looking very much. Never know what you might find.


 



Watch these pages for more poems and stories.
In the meantime, click the links below for
poems and stories by our other authors.


No Barefeet

Wind Chimes

On The Shore

Betsy Wetsy

Age vs Wisdom

The Earth Stirs

My Own Private Rainbow

Wondering

Three Cheers For Retirement


Lara's Den has free E-cards. I make them and offer them to our visitors and authors.
Click the button to access the index.


And.......for many others, click the index image.



Graphics by Marilyn
http://graphicsbymarilyn.com

graphicsbymarilyn@yahoo.com