There is nothing I love more than stumbling across complete collections of something, whatever that something may be. Of course, it helps if the objects collected are carefully arrayed and beautiful:
Hoarders are an odd sort, and perhaps this is why Steven and I make so much sense.
Who could get mad at a boy who gets boxes of antique butterflies & moths in the mail? And paid something like 5 bucks for each of them?
Now I get to pretend we're Piero Fornasetti and Vladimir Nabokov, two great collectors of pressed colorful bugs.