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The Eccentric Eclectic Collector

I would browse through my charmed life clicking open latch key doors of

eclectic shops from the streets of Florence Italy to the antique roads of Ogunquit Maine. I would discover

the past, the treats, the treasures of days past and art, old postcards, and

photos that strike my fancy. I’d discover banged edge tin boxes, ornate costume

jewelry, vintage clothing and wind up toys. I'd buy a jar of buttons just

to have them. Old mason jars with bouquets of wildflowers from the garden with

sit on a huge wooden farm table and fruit and cheese and honey would sit

invitingly. An old record player would play Madame Butterfly or some other

fantastic gorgeous piece softly in the background. I'd serve tea from old tea

sets and bake scones and have girl time and wild debates about anything at all.

Nights in my garden would be filled with candles and candelabra dangling from

trees and soft airy curtains would blow in the breeze. Lavender, honeysuckle,

gardenia and basil would waft through open windows as I lay in my big fluffy

bed listening to the low sporadic hum of fog horns.  

Rustic furniture and faded cottage rose overstuffed upholstery chairs and

shabby chic surroundings would fill my home and I would design it like a warm

inviting story you can't wait to curl up under a warm blanket with and let your

mind imagine where it might take you.  I would have a library of old books

with the spines broken and worn, and inside the margins would be notes tucked

in from lovers past. I would be wildly eccentric and write letters and poetry

and write stories to tell my children and grandchildren. I would travel in

between time bringing gifts and interesting artifacts each one telling its own separate

adventure.