PZ has a post about an old pocket watch that he inherited that includes:
Not particularly rare or valuable, but I didn’t expect much — it’s value is all sentimental to me.
I thought of adding a comment, but it wouldn’t have been about watches, so rather than hijack PZ’s comment thread, I decided to write a short post of my own.
Years ago, my maternal grandmother found an old sampler in a trunk; and she put it in a frame and hung it on her wall. I was the only grandchild who stood up on a chair, pointed to each of the letters, and said, “A-B-C-D…”, so I inherited it.
About thirty years ago, I showed it to a woman (I can’t remember her name) who was the curator of fabrics at the St. Louis Art Museum. As soon as she saw it, her face dropped. It’s in a rather common style for the time, and it’s unfinished.
But I got her to clean it up as best she could and mount it on an acid-free backing. That cost me way more than the object is worth by itself; but, yeah, it’s sentimental.