In August, my parents will celebrate their 60th wedding anniversary and my sisters and I will host an anniversary party to help them celebrate. While I’m biding my time this summer, I thought I might start gathering supplies for the centerpieces and make a list of what we need to carry out our “diamond anniversary” theme.

No surprise: shopping in my own house is my favorite kind of rabbit hole. The process is a cross between a treasure hunt (without a map) and a choose-your-own-adventure book. I’m never sure what I have, but I know there’s something to be found. It’s not that I’m disorganized, but living in a small house means my supplies are tucked wherever I can find room, instead of in one dedicated space. My living room, a hall closet, my bedroom, the attic – it can be challenging remembering all of my hidey holes, so it’s not uncommon for me to completely forget I have something.

A project like this takes twice the time, but is also twice the fun, thanks to the joy of rediscovering things. There’s a story for every component and I often find myself saying a silent prayer of thanks for the person who passed something along to me. I’ve been saving Atlas Mason jars for years and have a dozen I painted gray to use as centerpieces for a reception for some dear friends at church. My stash of broken or discarded jewelry was built by contributions from dozens of women and yielded all kinds of crystal costume pieces we can use as accents for our “diamond” theme. My years of teaching upcycling classes left me with all sorts of usable odds and ends – dowel rods, ribbon, wire, cardstock, more kinds of bling. And, because I’m the keeper of our family history, I have scans of the photos from my parents’ wedding album.

Surveying the wealth at my fingertips, I realize I have all I need – for this party and a dozen more like it. This is why I do what I do, and still dream of doing it on a grander scale. Resourcing my needs from a reserve of items I’ve curated myself is not unlike drawing on my own strength and stamina (instead of shopping or codependency). Every tool, every experience, every shiny object I’ve collected serves a purpose (eventually). In case I forget where I’ve stored this feeling, please remind me: this is my happy place!