Grandma's Cupboard

This old hutch lives in the corner of our dining room. When it came into my possession after my grandmother passed away it was in need of some tender loving care. Five scraped coats of ancient paint later, it was ready for a new look and a new life.

I painted it a soft cream color, filled it with my dibs and dabs of china and perched my collection of pitchers and teapots on top.

I think my grandma would be shocked if she

could know that her very serviceable cupboard that made its home in her back entryway for all those years now has such a place of prominence in my home decor.

But then again, maybe she does.

I love you, Grandma.

Pumpkin Imperfect

More autumnal decor on our fireplace mantel. The sweet ceramic pumpkin on top was a treasure garnered by my daughters from my husband's grandmother's estate. It reminds me of her and how kind she always was to me. It has a not-too-visible crack where it must have been broken and she mended it with some glue. That just makes me love it all the more.

After all, being real is what it is all about, not being perfect.

Right?

Vintage Purse Therapy

This little darlin' pocketbook was just waiting to be scooped up at one of my favorite thrift stores. Another item that can take me right back to being a little girl again...I especially recall that satisfying "click" as the ladies of the day would snap them closed. I also seem to remember the standard of the day seemed to be the more ancient the lady, the bigger and more forbidding her pocketbook was. Terrifyingly stern elderly schoolteachers seemed to have cornered the market there.

My little girl desire to be a big girl was all wound up in wanting a pocketbook of my very own, of the non-scary smaller variety of course. Naturally, by the time I was grown up enough to have one of my own the style had long passed. Until now.

Purse therapy, anyone?

Little Red Time Machine

The second I saw it, I knew I had to have it.

Hidden in the middle of a pile of battered and beaten contemporary music books in a dusty Goodwill drawer, it called to me as I sifted through the offerings.

One glance was all it took for this little red gem to do its work. Instantly, I was transported back to the magical age of seven and my very first piano lesson. I remember being almost overwhelmed with awe and excitement as my trembling little girl fingers opened my very first music book much like this one. Finally, I was going to gain my heart's desire: to learn to play piano. Thirty-some years later, I am still traveling with joy along the path begun that day.

A buried memory unexpectedly rejuvenated by a buried treasure.

Thanks, Goodwill.

Bloggity Blog Blog

At last I am taking the plunge into blogland.

What can you expect? Little snippets about home comforts, favorite things, faith and decorating. A bit of this, a little of that. Nothing earth shattering. Just reflections on the moments and vignettes that make up the fabric of our lives. Enjoy!