If you have visited my blog even once, you know that I am obsessed with our garden...with pumpkins and zinnias, with vines that trail in loop de loops and tomatoes that hang heavy with sweetness.
But now I will confess another "obsession"...or perhaps we will call it an
enthusiasm or perhaps even a passion:
It began many years ago when we still lived way up on a 3rd floor.
We found this stool at an auction and had it covered with a square of
fabric I had tucked away for the perfect project.
I picked these books up for pennies....the ceramic piece was my Grandma Edna's. It sat in her front parlor. On occasion we'd twirl on the round tufted bird ottoman in the same room...spinning til we were told to stop...or til we were dizzier than we could bear.
My son found the bottles in a little bottle burial ground in our woods.
Treasures of a time gone by.
I splurged ..spending a bit of my Christmas money on this treasure (1.99)
It called to me...like the sound of the purple finch on a warming spring current....
This is one of my favorites....a vintage Audubon print...still unframed...still
unsure where to hang it or prop it.
A magical nest of shells....gathered by my dad during his time on Guam.
It sits atop my husband's Nana's sewing basket.
A bit of nature