I don't remember how old I was, definitely still single digits, but somewhere along the line I started collecting old glass vases. I loved the colors, shapes, and textured designs. I would ride my bike out to a large weedy utility corridor at the far end of my housing development and pick oodles of wildflowers to bring home and put in my vases. More than once, a yellow spider hitch-hiked back with the goldenrod, or tiny green insects hid underneath the white blooms of Queen Anne's lace. I didn't mind.

Today, I skip the wildflowers, mostly because weedy utility corridors don't exist in the urban environment where I live. But I still collect the vases. The greener the glass, the better. I have spent years educating myself on the histories of the companies that mass-produced the vases, and my collecting interests have spilled over to include pyrex, milk glass, and anything kitchen or serving related.

I also have a thing for scarves. Old scarves, designer scarves, bright bold scarves, silk scarves. I can't say where this fascination comes from, I have no idea. No one in my family ever wore them, none were ever passed down to me, and I don't wear them myself. But I absolutely love digging through piles of them and finding the perfect mint condition Oscar de la Renta silk shawl or psychedelic Vera Neumann scarf!

A lot of time is spent getting my items squeaky clean before I list them for sale. Soaking, scrubbing, tooth-brushing, oxycleaning, washing, drying, ironing, and then sometimes doing it all again. It is a lot of work, but in the end it is all worth when I get notes from my customers saying I had the perfect piece to finish their incomplete set of dishes they inherited from Grandma, or I had the exact vase they broke at Aunt LuLu's house last week, or they finally found the Totes Rainscarf gift for mom because she loves them so much.