A friend brought back this Hemingway Museum magnet from her travels to Key West.
The museum looks pretty cool - it's the house where he lived and wrote for ten years. Taking a look at the sight, I can imagine him sitting at the desk, writing away.
I stumbled across this small collection of Hemingway ephemera - just some old letters, writings, photos, and other knickknacks, really. But it makes you realize that all the physical stuff that you have, the things that round out your personality and who you are...you can't take it with you. Someone gets left behind to deal with all your stuff.
While I've been home, I've been decluttering and getting rid of stuff, slowly but surely. It's little stuff - boxes of notes between me and my besties growing up, old letters, jewelry, 80s and 90s clothes, etc. It's been a great trip down memory lane, really.
Of course, I can't imagine anyone ever needing to keep my stuff around (except for my magnets, duh), after all, who cares what buttons we wore or what boys we liked in 7th grade. And they certainly wouldn't build a museum after me, for sure.
Still, a visit to the Hemingway Museum would be interesting. And probably would be more possible for me if it weren't on an island.
Of course, the six-toed cats kinda creep me out, too. So there's that.