it's the little things

In the introduction to Winnie the Pooh we learn that "Piglet is so small that he slips into a pocket, where it is very comforting to feel him when you are not quite sure whether twice seven is twelve or twenty-two". Most of the items that I saved over the summer were too big to keep in my pockets - which is why today they usually take up too much space on my desk. Some items, however, are precisely the right size for a pocket.

These stones, and the Canadian penny have been moved from pocket to pocket since our return from North America. Whenever I rifle through my pockets for something else, I find them (almost always first, and often, instead). Does finding them bring back memories? Not really. I can't remember when I picked up the stones - it could have been in any one of quite a number of places, and the penny, other than being from Canada, has no identifying marks. And yet sometimes, even without seeing them, only feeling them in my pocket as I reach for something else, they (well, at least the stones) are instantly identifiable, and I think to myself: "oh, it's those stones from the summer again". Which I guess is as good a reason as any to continue to leave them in my pocket.