No, actually, I have been down from the attic for quite some time; I am just coming back from the period of insanity induced by attic visits. Not that I have crazy relatives living in the attic . . . that I know of. It is just having a group of people simultaneously deciding what should go up, come down, be trashed is bedlam.

Then, of course, there is the triggered memory factor: There’s the  winter coat I bought Cameron when he was in first grade and he wore it upstairs right after getting out of school when my dad was sick and Daddy said, “He has a nice little coat,” and Mother said, “AJ got it for him.” At the other end of the spectrum is the Oh! Look! It’s a computer from the days before the Internet or Oh, look! It’s a stretched Mrs. Butterworth bottle made into a lamp. Cool!!!