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.