the line

Oh dear. I think I have crossed an invisible line.
No warning lights flashed and no gong sounded so I wandered into the danger zone and stepped over the line.
Actually, I'm pretty sure that the line is so far behind me now that I can actually act as a warning device myself. You know what they say, 'If you can't be a good example, be a horrible warning.'
Well here I am, horrible but happy.

It started with a simple first step.
It always does of course.
I was given a nativity set by my sister as a Christmas gift.
She painted it herself in ceramics class back when that was the craft of the year.
I've had it almost as long as I've been married.
When my girls hit their teens, I bought them a nativity set each year for several years.
I didn't realize then that this was a second step, skidding me perilously close to the line.
I was given a second nativity and eventually a third and my fate was sealed.
If you have one nativity, you are just observing Christmas.
If you have two, you are just getting into the spirit of the seaon.
But if you have three, it becomes official. You have a collection.
And of course, once you achieve that status, it is important to maintain it by collecting.
But there is a line.
It always seemed way out there somewhere in the blue until recently.
And now I have crossed it.
I am no longer just a casual collector of Nativity sets.
I am drawn to them and they to me.
I would be wise to avoid the Seasonal area of thrift shops or as my husband would urge, thrift shops in general.
Perhaps it is not too late.
I can just barely see the line still and if I double back, I might be able to cross to the other side again.
The sensible side.
The sane and safe side.
Or not.

Made in Japan, and vintage just like me.

 Very tiny plastic set made in Hong Kong long ago.

Hand carved and very small. Does small count?