Don't Touch My Stuff!

I went to an estate auction early this morning.  Normally I love a good deal...but every time I attend an estate sale I get overcome with emotion.  I become very saddened by the fact that the owner of all of the possessions has no idea that all of their belongings are being fondled by strangers.  This makes me rethink my own hoarding issues.  I love people, I really do...I just don't like to share.  I was especially protective of my stuff as a child.  I distinctly remember the times my mother's best friend would come over and visit us for the day.  She would bring along her daughter, who was the same age as me.  I really liked this girl...except when she marched right over to my closet and started trying on my shoes.  Since I was taught to be polite I held my tongue albeit through a clenched jaw.  I can easily recall walking over to my mother who was enjoying her sweet tea and catching up with her friend at the dining room table and whispering in her ear, "She's wearing my shoes!" My eyes were no doubt as wide as they could be trying to translate my dire need for an intervention--pronto! 
As I walked around the front yard of the old farm house it was easy for me to tell that the lady of the house was an avid cook and had a way with a sewing machine.  She enjoyed quilts and all manor of costume jewelry.  If you study the photo you'll notice a wedding dress hanging on the front porch.  All of the other items were laid out on folding tables in the yard separated by category to be auctioned off in lots.  This got me thinking about all of the things that are mine...all of the minutiae that I simply can't part with for whatever reason.  It scares me to think of the unthinkable...what if....    But then a smile starts to tug at the corner of my lip...just one corner...a kind of smirk.....just what exactly would one be able to deduce about "the lady of my house?"  I certainly am no whiz in the kitchen...although I have every Pampered Chef item ever sold.  I've never sewn an article of clothing (unless you count that plaid sleep shirt I was forced to make in homemaking)...but I have several quilts.  Hmmm....just what does our stuff say about us?  I am a tad nervous about all of my writings and journals and snippets of papers lying about....those are the real tell-alls.....I think it's time to invest in a vault!