When your past lives on a porch...

When your past lives on a porch..., originally uploaded by daradactyl.

I can't describe what it feels like to have so many things you remember from childhood - bits of ephemora here and there - all sits together on your porch, waiting for a new home.

To have all that gathered as if to say, "This was the Modglin household, " feels like a misrepresentation. It is but highlights, or lowlights, of the Modglin house. Things my Mom and Dad liked, or collected, things they probably treasured. But that is gone. And what We, my brother and I, don't treasure, gets passed along to a new adventurer, all for a quarter.

Perhaps the real value of something is found in how much it is loved.