The girl and I went to a jewelry party my mom had last week. We had tons of fun ogling high fashion jewelry, and eating…ok, I had the fun eating, she had the fun ogling.
See, she is having tons of fun. Can’t you tell? Neither can I.
What I truly would like to point out to you is this picture.
I want it. I want it bad! This picture was a wedding gift for my great great super old relatives on my dad’s side, and it is dated April 1, 1887.
It belongs in my house. My house is about as old as that picture, my house is about as old as the treadle (it was theirs too) that sits in it, my house is about as old as the hills, and deserves to have such a lovely painting hanging on its walls. My house longs for this painting. Sometimes I hear it crying in the night, lonely for the painting to hang on its wall.
I think it would look absolutely gorgeous above this. I’d like to think that great-great super old granny sat at this machine, with the picture above her. She would look at it as she sewed. She would think of all her descendants, and wish that her great-great super young granddaughter to have them both, because she would appreciate them.
It is a sad, sad thing to hear your house crying in the night. I need to make it feel better.
Maybe some chocolate would help.