It's a miracle!
It's a miracle!
It's a miracle!
Beauty is Everywhere
The Salvation Army in Conway, AR wasn't very grand. On a small side street just off downtown, it was housed in a dilapidated building. Compared to the Salvation Army stores in Wichita, KS it was small and poorly lit, with a cracked and uneven poured concrete floor. This store was in need of some serious repair and reorganization.
As Danette and I entered, dressed in our interview clothes (we would get to go back to the hotel to change before the actual pageant), I quickly scanned the store and found it jumbled and strange. We sheepishly made our way through the furniture section where I spotted a pair of end tables that had a certain panache--a look one might call Suburb-Asian. The price wasn't bad, and I might have bought them, but they were large and Danette had packed a lot of stuff so I didn't think they would fit in the SUV. They were really the only thing of interest in the entire department
Moving on to knick-knacks, I found a set of chef guys (creamer and sugar) that were a bit chipped, but otherwise too cute to pass up. I forced them on Danette--she is going for a kooky kitschy kitchen and these are perfect, yet she tried to resist because the little men have FLIES on their faces. It's funny and bizarre! However, there were a several things that I resisted:
1. An odd rose/shell combination dish
2. Some blue glasses like the ones I found all over Wichita, but they were in very bad shape
3. Lots of records
4. And Danette (Queen Diva of Decoupage) resisted a suitcase she was going to cut and paste up with crazy stuff. It would have been fantastique, but the interior was in poor condition.
As we approached the check-out counter, I spied a small set of sherbets (not pictured) in the glass case up front. You know, where they put the good stuff. They were from Turkey and still had the manufacturers sticker on them, in perfect shape and very cheap. Plus, who can resist a set of six of anything? Pas moi. So I snagged them and just at that moment the woman working the register (who we'll call Flonelle) was finishing up with the people in line in front of us:
"How are ya'll doin'?" she crooned in our direction, not waiting for a response before she raised her arm from which dangled an extraordinarily large price gun "It's attached to me, if I put it down I'll lose it, so I just keep it around my wrist. How are ya'll doin'?"
(Now I could use multiple superlatives to describe Flonelle, but I believe that since I have already told you that we were shopping in a Salvation Army in Conway, Arkansas that you, my intelligent readers, can generate a mental picture of your own.)
"We're just fine," we replied, "and you?"
"I am blessed, I am truly truly blesssssed," Flonelle told us, beaming like only someone who is truly blessed can beam. "Last week, we had all that rain...and it flooded my front yard. I'm telling ya'll that I had fish in my front yard swimmin' in a pond that used to be just a yard--all that water overflowed from the creek down the way. Didin know what to do!? Now the water has finally gone back down and I'm left with yard fullllll of stinking old dirty fish. But, I can't complain, because I am blessed."
We nodded in agreement--in that knowing way that says "I too have had the creek overrun its banks and flood my yard filling it with fish,"--and she just kept talking, again raising the arm with the giant pricegun dangling from her wrist and gesturing to a pile of donations behind us.
"See that?" We nodded. "That is job security. Those donations keep comin' in and keep pilin' up and as long as they do I'll be here pricin' away with this gun. Job security. I am blessed. Truly blessed."
We thanked her for our purchases which she had gingerly wrapped up in old newspaper and placed in recycled trash bags. She told us to have a blessed day and we went on our way to the Miss Arkansas Pageant, happy and content with some new little treasures and the pleasure of meeting Flonelle. And blessed. Truly, truly blessed.
As Danette and I entered, dressed in our interview clothes (we would get to go back to the hotel to change before the actual pageant), I quickly scanned the store and found it jumbled and strange. We sheepishly made our way through the furniture section where I spotted a pair of end tables that had a certain panache--a look one might call Suburb-Asian. The price wasn't bad, and I might have bought them, but they were large and Danette had packed a lot of stuff so I didn't think they would fit in the SUV. They were really the only thing of interest in the entire department
Moving on to knick-knacks, I found a set of chef guys (creamer and sugar) that were a bit chipped, but otherwise too cute to pass up. I forced them on Danette--she is going for a kooky kitschy kitchen and these are perfect, yet she tried to resist because the little men have FLIES on their faces. It's funny and bizarre! However, there were a several things that I resisted:
1. An odd rose/shell combination dish
2. Some blue glasses like the ones I found all over Wichita, but they were in very bad shape
3. Lots of records
4. And Danette (Queen Diva of Decoupage) resisted a suitcase she was going to cut and paste up with crazy stuff. It would have been fantastique, but the interior was in poor condition.
As we approached the check-out counter, I spied a small set of sherbets (not pictured) in the glass case up front. You know, where they put the good stuff. They were from Turkey and still had the manufacturers sticker on them, in perfect shape and very cheap. Plus, who can resist a set of six of anything? Pas moi. So I snagged them and just at that moment the woman working the register (who we'll call Flonelle) was finishing up with the people in line in front of us:
"How are ya'll doin'?" she crooned in our direction, not waiting for a response before she raised her arm from which dangled an extraordinarily large price gun "It's attached to me, if I put it down I'll lose it, so I just keep it around my wrist. How are ya'll doin'?"
(Now I could use multiple superlatives to describe Flonelle, but I believe that since I have already told you that we were shopping in a Salvation Army in Conway, Arkansas that you, my intelligent readers, can generate a mental picture of your own.)
"We're just fine," we replied, "and you?"
"I am blessed, I am truly truly blesssssed," Flonelle told us, beaming like only someone who is truly blessed can beam. "Last week, we had all that rain...and it flooded my front yard. I'm telling ya'll that I had fish in my front yard swimmin' in a pond that used to be just a yard--all that water overflowed from the creek down the way. Didin know what to do!? Now the water has finally gone back down and I'm left with yard fullllll of stinking old dirty fish. But, I can't complain, because I am blessed."
We nodded in agreement--in that knowing way that says "I too have had the creek overrun its banks and flood my yard filling it with fish,"--and she just kept talking, again raising the arm with the giant pricegun dangling from her wrist and gesturing to a pile of donations behind us.
"See that?" We nodded. "That is job security. Those donations keep comin' in and keep pilin' up and as long as they do I'll be here pricin' away with this gun. Job security. I am blessed. Truly blessed."
We thanked her for our purchases which she had gingerly wrapped up in old newspaper and placed in recycled trash bags. She told us to have a blessed day and we went on our way to the Miss Arkansas Pageant, happy and content with some new little treasures and the pleasure of meeting Flonelle. And blessed. Truly, truly blessed.
Now aren't these adorable AND disturbing?! What a great combination...
Suburb-Asian
Odd rose/shell combo
Very scummy and scratched blue glasses (with Danette peaking over the top)
Lots of records--especially strong in those with a religious bent.
Danette scorns the interior of the suitcase.
Thrifting in Conway, AR
In early November, I found myself thrift shopping at the Salvation Army in the bustling burg of Conway, Arkansas. I was with my friend Danette, who was dubious about our detour to the store, as we were on our way to judge the Miss Arkansas USA/Miss Teen Arkansas USA pageants.
(Okay, okay, I'll admit that I purposely sought out the thrift store in Conway so that I could include my misadventures at the pageant on this blog without getting off mission.)
Judging Miss Arkansas? You're probably wondering how that came about. Danette, who was a judge at Miss Alabama last year, got asked to do the judging for Miss Arkansas because the same organization runs both, in addition to Miss Mississippi (say that three times fast). They had a couple of judges back out at the last minute--so in other words, I was the runner-up and had to fulfill the duties of someone who was unable to.
But why would Brian be qualified to judge a pageant? I asked myself the same question. Those of you who know me well know that I am the least judgmental of my peers. I'm shy, quiet and deferential to the opinions of others. I'm not at all critical and have never said a catty thing about anyone in my entire life. But, I knew that it was important to the young women of Arkansas that someone (a Paris, per se) be there to decide between them, so I sucked it up and promised myself (and those girls who were relying on me) that I would do my best to be critical, discerning and judicial in my choices.
Judging Miss Arkansas was much more difficult than I expected. There are lots of forms to fill out and a two-minute one-on-one interview with each and every contestant. It's kind of like speed dating: five women come into the room and stand by one of the judges; the facilitator says go; they sit; you talk; time is called; and then they move on. It's fast and furious. I tried to use open-ended statements, rather than questions in an effort to spur conversation: "Tell me more about your love of hot cheetos," "How do you like living in Smackover, Arkansas," and "How do you exemplify your life motto?" (Them: "Exemplify? Can you please use that it in a sentence?" Me: "Sorry, how do you live your life motto.") One also found oneself asking "What was it like to grow up in a family of nine children" quite often.
The person running the show told us that we COULD NOT select Miss Arkansas based on the interview. She drilled into our head a motto which apparently comes from the Miss USA pageant: "Beauty is our business. Beauty is our business. Beauty is our business." It's a beauty pageant, not a scholarship pageant. There was not a talent portion.
Some things I learned from the interview process:
1. There are a lot of women out there who have always dreamed of being Miss Arkansas. I have always said, "You have to dream big," and apparently they did.
2. If all of the beauty salons and day spas are opened by the women in the pageant who say that is what they want to do, Arkansas is going to be a VERY beautiful place in the future.
3. Even though none of these women looked as if they had eaten anything in the last month, nearly all of them listed some sort of sweet, decadent dessert as their favorite food. To look at?
After the interview, there was a short break and then the pageant proper began. Dresses and swimwear....over and over and over again. And the whole time, the contestants were just staring me down. It was almost enough to make a judge scream, "No more chiffon! No more taffeta! Give me shantung silk or give me death!" And, I imagine that the eveningwear section at the Little Rock Dillards is completely bare, much to the chagrin of holiday gala goers.
Some advice for any of you who may be considering entering a pageant:
1. If you are going to put "When it comes to make up, less is more" as your beauty tip on your profile, you had better be living it. Don't sit down in front of me with purple eye shadow caked on up to your eyebrows.
2. The Apostle Paul is not an interesting choice for the question of "Who would you most like to have lunch with." Neither is Oprah. (about 53% responded the big O on that one) Bill Clinton IS an interesting choice, especially if you're a Republican. Even more so if you are a gorgeous Republican with long legs and blond hair. Please let me know how that goes.
3. Don't flatter the judges. "You've got really beautiful eyes" has never gotten anyone ANYWHERE and it certainly isn't going to make you Miss Arkansas.
Some general advice:
1. Visible band-aids and eveningwear do not mix.
2. Text messaging is not a talent.
3. A flamenco dress does not a Miss Arkansas make.
4. Make sure that your hair-do is tiara friendly. If it's not, what is the point of winning.
The whole experience was completely bizarre. The group of judges was kept together and chaperoned at all time to make sure that nothing untoward happened. I really did enjoy meeting the other judges and, of course, Danette and I had a fantastic time. I was worried that I would be out of sync (as opposed to N'sync) with the other judge's choices, but I picked 8 out of 10 of the finalists for Miss Teen Arkansas and 6 out of 8 of the finalists for Miss Arkansas. In the end I picked Miss Arkansas and her runner up and Miss Teen Arkansas, which made me feel good about my choices. (Well, as good as I could. I mean, I was judging women based solely on their physical attributes in 2004, but what the hey.) Both contestants will be competing in the Miss USA and Miss Teen USA pageants and I can hardly wait to watch.
I'd like to leave you with a little lesson that I learned from Miss Arkansas USA 2003 and her experience at the Miss USA pageant. She said (and I paraphrase): "You know that only one of those girls is going to go home with the crown, but we all get a wonderful new groups of friends." Believe it, live it, it's the truth.
Next week: The true story of our adventures at the Conway Salvation Army where we met Flonelle (not her real name, its important to protect the innocent) and heard about the triumphs and tragedies of her life. Not to mention, several fantastic thrifting finds.
(Okay, okay, I'll admit that I purposely sought out the thrift store in Conway so that I could include my misadventures at the pageant on this blog without getting off mission.)
Judging Miss Arkansas? You're probably wondering how that came about. Danette, who was a judge at Miss Alabama last year, got asked to do the judging for Miss Arkansas because the same organization runs both, in addition to Miss Mississippi (say that three times fast). They had a couple of judges back out at the last minute--so in other words, I was the runner-up and had to fulfill the duties of someone who was unable to.
But why would Brian be qualified to judge a pageant? I asked myself the same question. Those of you who know me well know that I am the least judgmental of my peers. I'm shy, quiet and deferential to the opinions of others. I'm not at all critical and have never said a catty thing about anyone in my entire life. But, I knew that it was important to the young women of Arkansas that someone (a Paris, per se) be there to decide between them, so I sucked it up and promised myself (and those girls who were relying on me) that I would do my best to be critical, discerning and judicial in my choices.
Judging Miss Arkansas was much more difficult than I expected. There are lots of forms to fill out and a two-minute one-on-one interview with each and every contestant. It's kind of like speed dating: five women come into the room and stand by one of the judges; the facilitator says go; they sit; you talk; time is called; and then they move on. It's fast and furious. I tried to use open-ended statements, rather than questions in an effort to spur conversation: "Tell me more about your love of hot cheetos," "How do you like living in Smackover, Arkansas," and "How do you exemplify your life motto?" (Them: "Exemplify? Can you please use that it in a sentence?" Me: "Sorry, how do you live your life motto.") One also found oneself asking "What was it like to grow up in a family of nine children" quite often.
The person running the show told us that we COULD NOT select Miss Arkansas based on the interview. She drilled into our head a motto which apparently comes from the Miss USA pageant: "Beauty is our business. Beauty is our business. Beauty is our business." It's a beauty pageant, not a scholarship pageant. There was not a talent portion.
Some things I learned from the interview process:
1. There are a lot of women out there who have always dreamed of being Miss Arkansas. I have always said, "You have to dream big," and apparently they did.
2. If all of the beauty salons and day spas are opened by the women in the pageant who say that is what they want to do, Arkansas is going to be a VERY beautiful place in the future.
3. Even though none of these women looked as if they had eaten anything in the last month, nearly all of them listed some sort of sweet, decadent dessert as their favorite food. To look at?
After the interview, there was a short break and then the pageant proper began. Dresses and swimwear....over and over and over again. And the whole time, the contestants were just staring me down. It was almost enough to make a judge scream, "No more chiffon! No more taffeta! Give me shantung silk or give me death!" And, I imagine that the eveningwear section at the Little Rock Dillards is completely bare, much to the chagrin of holiday gala goers.
Some advice for any of you who may be considering entering a pageant:
1. If you are going to put "When it comes to make up, less is more" as your beauty tip on your profile, you had better be living it. Don't sit down in front of me with purple eye shadow caked on up to your eyebrows.
2. The Apostle Paul is not an interesting choice for the question of "Who would you most like to have lunch with." Neither is Oprah. (about 53% responded the big O on that one) Bill Clinton IS an interesting choice, especially if you're a Republican. Even more so if you are a gorgeous Republican with long legs and blond hair. Please let me know how that goes.
3. Don't flatter the judges. "You've got really beautiful eyes" has never gotten anyone ANYWHERE and it certainly isn't going to make you Miss Arkansas.
Some general advice:
1. Visible band-aids and eveningwear do not mix.
2. Text messaging is not a talent.
3. A flamenco dress does not a Miss Arkansas make.
4. Make sure that your hair-do is tiara friendly. If it's not, what is the point of winning.
The whole experience was completely bizarre. The group of judges was kept together and chaperoned at all time to make sure that nothing untoward happened. I really did enjoy meeting the other judges and, of course, Danette and I had a fantastic time. I was worried that I would be out of sync (as opposed to N'sync) with the other judge's choices, but I picked 8 out of 10 of the finalists for Miss Teen Arkansas and 6 out of 8 of the finalists for Miss Arkansas. In the end I picked Miss Arkansas and her runner up and Miss Teen Arkansas, which made me feel good about my choices. (Well, as good as I could. I mean, I was judging women based solely on their physical attributes in 2004, but what the hey.) Both contestants will be competing in the Miss USA and Miss Teen USA pageants and I can hardly wait to watch.
I'd like to leave you with a little lesson that I learned from Miss Arkansas USA 2003 and her experience at the Miss USA pageant. She said (and I paraphrase): "You know that only one of those girls is going to go home with the crown, but we all get a wonderful new groups of friends." Believe it, live it, it's the truth.
Next week: The true story of our adventures at the Conway Salvation Army where we met Flonelle (not her real name, its important to protect the innocent) and heard about the triumphs and tragedies of her life. Not to mention, several fantastic thrifting finds.
Thrifting with Molly (and Jesus!)
Saturdays are great for thrifting (and relaxing), but I had quite a bit to do around the house. I decided to give my friend Molly (She of the fish plate. It was returned, for those of you following that drama.) a call and see if she wanted to go thrifting in the afternoon. I told her it was going to be my 'carrot' for getting things done in the morning, but she was leaving town and asked if I wanted to have my carrot first. But of course.
When I swung by to pick Molly up, her neighbor's little dog was loose and tried to attack me. It was rather comical as this dog, who probably weighs about six pounds, thinks it weighs about sixty. Molly was read-ta-go, so we popped into the Salvation Army (SA) right by her house, even though I'd been there just a couple of days before. There was this great set of dishes I had resisted and wanted to re-resist.
Syracuse pottery with a fleur-de-lis pattern and brown accent pieces, this set had it all: creamer/sugar, two sets of salt and pepper, a little pitcher, and even DEMITASSE CUPS AND SAUCERS. At $33.00 it was very difficult to pass up, but I had. Three days later and it was still there AND the crazy manager of the store with the big afro had marked it up to $50. Not that it isn't worth that, but its a thrift store...you're supposed to mark things down, not up. (See images of this great china that could've been mine below.) Now you're probably asking yourself, "Why should Brian resist such fantastic dishes?" The answer isn't easy, but suffice it to say that I have five sets already (Temporama, Metlox Shore Line, Mikasa Pom Pom, Poinsettias dishes for the holidays, plus my grandmothers Royal Doulton, amid various other mix-n-match things) and don't have a single place to put this gorgeous set.
I sucked it up and continued to move through the store where we found a fantastic little ashtray shaped like a French horn and a cluster of orange acrylic grapes on burlap. I passed on the ashtray because I already have enough decorative/liberated ashtrays in the house and while the grapes were desirable and matched the amazing lamp hanging in my living room, the burlap was incredibly ugly. Then, the day's shopping motif appeared unto us....JESUS. It was a pearlescent Jesus and lamb in perfect shape. Everyone who knows me or has been to my house knows that I have a penchant for the Virgin, and while Jesus does make an occasional guest appearance, it isn't something I normally collect. But fascinated I was...
From there, we grabbed a coffee and went to the DAV...where there wasn't a single thing either of us wanted. We nosed around and checked it all out. I debated over a couple of leaf-shaped wooden dishes (wood is my new obsession, it adds such warmth to the table. HA!) and Molly considered a small desk which she was thinking about using as a catch-all in her entryway.
We left empty handed and headed across the street to the Treasure Chest where we were interrupted mid-browse by a woman who came back into the store after tapping my car in the parking lot. No damage, but she was awfully nice and the interruption was assuaged when the German-accented salesclerk said my favorite words "Everything is 30% off." There were tons of great glass things in the Treasure Chest: some little sherbets, cocktail glasses and some small bumpy plates Molly should have bought. "Too small," she said. But she was into bumpy, she was specifically looking for bumpy. I picked up a couple of red and gold candlesticks and found a small orange lamp that we almost came to blows over. It was then that he appeared unto us yet again, only this time it was a beautiful vampy Jesus--with eyelashes that any woman would kill for and pursed lips painted the most lovely shade of red. This time he was accompanied by his mother, the BVM, but she wasn't half as pretty as he.
I began to wonder if JC was following us, if he had a message to deliver. I turned around and yep, you guessed...bigger than life on the wall, an intricately woven tapestry of the one and only. This Jesus was different than the others, kind of cartoony and looking as if he used to be in a biker gang. He was flanked by a picture of Clark Gable and some straw dolls, which came together to form a slightly strange altar.
We left with our goodies and headed south to a couple of stores on the other side of town. I must say that the pickings were slim, but at the SA, there he was again, right next to a painting of the Taj Mahal. He looked like paint by numbers, but the artist still needed some practice. The paint was too thick and the colors weren't distinct enough. ("Criticism is an act of love" --Chairman Mao) But here he was, Jesus number four.
Finally, after mulptiple manifestations, his message became clear: thrifting isn't just about shopping, buying and collecting. Thrifting is a holy endeavor, one that we must undertake with respect, consideration and thoughtfulness. Thrifting is a form of social meditation that heals communities, people and world. Remember that, next time you're shopping with Molly.
I think that he also wants me to go back for those dishes!
BW
When I swung by to pick Molly up, her neighbor's little dog was loose and tried to attack me. It was rather comical as this dog, who probably weighs about six pounds, thinks it weighs about sixty. Molly was read-ta-go, so we popped into the Salvation Army (SA) right by her house, even though I'd been there just a couple of days before. There was this great set of dishes I had resisted and wanted to re-resist.
Syracuse pottery with a fleur-de-lis pattern and brown accent pieces, this set had it all: creamer/sugar, two sets of salt and pepper, a little pitcher, and even DEMITASSE CUPS AND SAUCERS. At $33.00 it was very difficult to pass up, but I had. Three days later and it was still there AND the crazy manager of the store with the big afro had marked it up to $50. Not that it isn't worth that, but its a thrift store...you're supposed to mark things down, not up. (See images of this great china that could've been mine below.) Now you're probably asking yourself, "Why should Brian resist such fantastic dishes?" The answer isn't easy, but suffice it to say that I have five sets already (Temporama, Metlox Shore Line, Mikasa Pom Pom, Poinsettias dishes for the holidays, plus my grandmothers Royal Doulton, amid various other mix-n-match things) and don't have a single place to put this gorgeous set.
I sucked it up and continued to move through the store where we found a fantastic little ashtray shaped like a French horn and a cluster of orange acrylic grapes on burlap. I passed on the ashtray because I already have enough decorative/liberated ashtrays in the house and while the grapes were desirable and matched the amazing lamp hanging in my living room, the burlap was incredibly ugly. Then, the day's shopping motif appeared unto us....JESUS. It was a pearlescent Jesus and lamb in perfect shape. Everyone who knows me or has been to my house knows that I have a penchant for the Virgin, and while Jesus does make an occasional guest appearance, it isn't something I normally collect. But fascinated I was...
From there, we grabbed a coffee and went to the DAV...where there wasn't a single thing either of us wanted. We nosed around and checked it all out. I debated over a couple of leaf-shaped wooden dishes (wood is my new obsession, it adds such warmth to the table. HA!) and Molly considered a small desk which she was thinking about using as a catch-all in her entryway.
We left empty handed and headed across the street to the Treasure Chest where we were interrupted mid-browse by a woman who came back into the store after tapping my car in the parking lot. No damage, but she was awfully nice and the interruption was assuaged when the German-accented salesclerk said my favorite words "Everything is 30% off." There were tons of great glass things in the Treasure Chest: some little sherbets, cocktail glasses and some small bumpy plates Molly should have bought. "Too small," she said. But she was into bumpy, she was specifically looking for bumpy. I picked up a couple of red and gold candlesticks and found a small orange lamp that we almost came to blows over. It was then that he appeared unto us yet again, only this time it was a beautiful vampy Jesus--with eyelashes that any woman would kill for and pursed lips painted the most lovely shade of red. This time he was accompanied by his mother, the BVM, but she wasn't half as pretty as he.
I began to wonder if JC was following us, if he had a message to deliver. I turned around and yep, you guessed...bigger than life on the wall, an intricately woven tapestry of the one and only. This Jesus was different than the others, kind of cartoony and looking as if he used to be in a biker gang. He was flanked by a picture of Clark Gable and some straw dolls, which came together to form a slightly strange altar.
We left with our goodies and headed south to a couple of stores on the other side of town. I must say that the pickings were slim, but at the SA, there he was again, right next to a painting of the Taj Mahal. He looked like paint by numbers, but the artist still needed some practice. The paint was too thick and the colors weren't distinct enough. ("Criticism is an act of love" --Chairman Mao) But here he was, Jesus number four.
Finally, after mulptiple manifestations, his message became clear: thrifting isn't just about shopping, buying and collecting. Thrifting is a holy endeavor, one that we must undertake with respect, consideration and thoughtfulness. Thrifting is a form of social meditation that heals communities, people and world. Remember that, next time you're shopping with Molly.
I think that he also wants me to go back for those dishes!
BW
Great dishes
Great Dishes, dtl.
Molly with the grapes
Ashtray
Shiny Jesus
Beautiful, Pretty Jesus
Tapestry Jesus
Paint-by-number Jesus
The Lake House: A Manic Thrift Store Shopper Tribute
Contrary to commonly held belief, thrift shopping isn't just about acquisition and possession. Sometimes, its just about a good eye for fantastic finds be they at the thrift store, on-line or the lake house of a friend. The latter is the case of these gorgeous pieces from my friend Margaret's family's house in Michigan. Peppered in cabinets and rooms throughout the place, these treasures are only part of the charm of a lovely space on the shores of a sea-like lake filled with good friends and wonderful times.
Thank you Margaret for a wonderful Labor Day weekend!
BLW
Thank you Margaret for a wonderful Labor Day weekend!
BLW
pyrex in pot copy
My true love-
A pyrex casserole-
Propping up geraniums
In a pot.
Won't someone rescue you?