Diary of home
My Aunts came to visit one day last week. They are the sweetest ladies ever and almost always bring a gift or two for some lucky recipient. This time they brought a beautiful old rocking chair for my grandchildren. I’ll keep it at my home for the time being and Verne and Abigail can use it when the visit. They both really like to sit in their own small chairs.
My aunts picked it up at an outdoor market. The woman told them that no one wanted this kind of stuff anymore. No one appreciates it. She overheard some one saying they would paint it silver.
My aunts were just as happy to save the chair from that fate as I am!
I’m not sure when my love affair with old things old began.
Old books have been laying around on the tables for as long as I have had a home.
This one, The Friendly Road, was published circa 1913.
It’s plot line loosely follows the seasons around an old house and the fields which surround it
on a friendly road in the country.
Nothing of much significance happens.
Leaves fall, flowers bloom, snow covers everything....
Bugs eat the decaying leaves, neighbors walk through the fields...
My favourite kind of book.
There’s no reason to hurry through it. It’s as far from suspenseful as can be, none of your friends will want to talk about it with you. It’s not on any bestseller list.
It’s process reading not project.