a private history of furniture and other things, part three

I'm not quite ready to leave this section of my memory hoard.  Thinking about things we own and the accidents by which we acquired or lost them, I have to explore a little more.  I never read the whole of Swann's Way, only the condensed version: the descriptions of the things or events which layered into the writer's memory and stayed there -  l'essence des choses.   That kind of layered recollection hits me every day and it's because I am surrounded by furniture, things and stuff (that's a technical term) that I am led into a kind of post-hypnotic trance.  That sounds heavy and time-consuming but memory comes in complete flashes so it usually doesn't take long. Sometimes the flash is just that,  a swift light on a past event; other times, however,  it sends me off course to check on something I hadn't thought of in ages.  That's when I have to be careful, not only because I have been side-tracked but also because I am often assailed by emotions that threaten to paralyze me for the day, and I have to deal with them before I go on.  This is beginning to sound complicated.  I may have to scrap this blog. I'm going too deep. I am stumbling on my trip down memory lane and I am in danger. Anon, anon.