My mom was a fashionista.  She loved costume jewelry.  Rhinestones, jingles and jangles.  When she died, those things ended up with me.  I wear her things all the time.  In fashion, or out--I don't care.  And through the years, I have purchased jewelry at garage sales, estate sales, etc.  It was cheap.  No longer.  What I could once buy for a dollar now goes for a hundred.  Who knew.

I had so much of it, and didn't want to dig through it, so I started buying those really old gold embossed boxes with glass lids and sides.  They were perfect, came in all sizes, and you could see what was in the box without opening the lid.  They kept the dust out and were easily accessible.

Well, as with all things in my life, it became unmanageable.  I would pick up a piece of jewelry at one garage sale, find a glass box at another--and find a place to put them.  I eventually couldn't find room for all of them, and had no idea what was in most of them.  One by one, they covered my bedroom chest, and then the counter in the master bath, and eventually I had to start stacking them.  So...I promised myself that when I got moved, I would dump it all out, clean all the boxes and sort jewelry.

Last weekend, the only place I could find to sort all that stuff was the dining room table--extended with leaves.  Box at a time, I filled them with things I actually wanted, according to color and space.  I am half way through and admit that some of it has to go.  I already gave three boxes away--Lisa wants some of them.  I'll take some of them to the antique store for Becky to sell, and the jewelry I have never worn--and have no idea why I bought--is going out.

Earrings that had gotten separated got put back together, and I found things that I thought were forever lost.  A gold chain with a diamond that Ken had given me--for one.  I found his USMC gold wings--which I will proudly wear on a jacket.  I found my dad's wedding ring.  And a platinum one that I think was my mom's.  There is a necklace that Becky made from sea glass that we picked up one year on the Riviera--no, I didn't buy a ticket to the Riviera.  Becky had miles from traveling to work.  Five of us went, shared cheap rooms, and ended up with sea glass jewelry.  It's really pretty.  Pretty gets me every time.  Vanity, vanity, thy name is "Woman."(Actually, Shakespeare never wrote that.  Hamlet said: "Frailty, thy name is woman.")  But the Book of Ecclesiastes has quite a lot to say about vanity.  I'm not vain.  I'm not vain.  I'm not vain...If I keep saying it, it will be true???