Home

Gosh. I am home. Not from a trip or a journey. Just home. What makes a place home? It can be a person, no doubt. It can be a place. It can be a collection or association of objects. Not just any old objects. Objects collected from vacations or journeys. Even journeys to thrift stores or yard sales. Those objects say something about you. This is what interests me or what I find interesting or comforting or comfortable. It can be an object that has a story. It can be a very personal story or a story about your family. Or, it can be something that makes you smile when you look at it.

I recently bought a print at the thrift store. It was not signed or numbered and had a plastic cover so I knew it wasn't valuable. I sort of agonized about buying it. Not because it cost a whopping $5 but was it "me"?  I awkwardly carried it around the store for awhile (too large for the shopping cart) as I was browsing for other stuff. I really did like it and it was in a nice custom frame and garden themed, my favorite stuff, so it came home. It is titled, Still Life on the Veranda by John Powell.

A couple of caveats. It can be easy to get carried away buying stuff at a thrift store. Even there, don't just buy stuff because it is cheap or a bargain. I have re-donated stuff to the very thrift store where I bought it after I looked at the stuff at home. In fact, I bought a table and chairs and the guy loading it cautioned me he didn't want to see it back for at least 6 months. And, don't end up a hoarder with your house bursting at the seams with stuff that was too good to pass up. Sometimes when I see stuff and I know it is nice and a bargain but it is not something that is me, I just say, I'll let if be someone else's treasure. And, lastly, if you do love it, buy it because you may not find it when you return. Now, I just have to decide where to hang it.

Alphonse Mucha - Recylced

I didn't know what to expect when I found myself in Prague on my last, (oh, too long ago) vacation.  Since, I had changed my vacation plans at the last moment, I really didn't have a clue about the city, where I was going to stay or what the exchange rate for their currency was.  All I had was my Rick Steves guidebook to go on.  But, the travel bureau sent me to a lovely hotel in the Jewish section of town.  (This I didn't know, although I walked by a pretty old synagogue from the train station on my the to my hotel.)

So, on my wanderings about Prague's old town center, a sign invited me to a combination Dali/Mucha museum and I decided to go and check out the works of the Spanish painter Salvadore Dali since I hadn't a clue about this guy Alphonse Mucha.  I could tell the Czechs had a pretty fervent emotion about him and so very rightly so as I came to agree. And the two ladies in front of me said his name with such a whispered reverence my interest was peaked because they were Spaniards.  After, viewing said museum, I checked out my guidebook again, and found yet another museum dedicated to Alphonse Mucha.  Then, I fell for him and his artwork (although, as the father of Art Nouveau, I just didn't know his name and that that he was pretty much it).  Much to my chagrin, I didn't purchase any prints from the gift store (I've lugged a cardboard tube around on vacation before and wasn't doing that again).  So, I  bought smaller items easier to transport like some very lovely bookmarks for gifts.  Then, I bought a couple of calendars because for some reason, I was compelled to by my very soul and I thought they would fit in my suitcase without too much damage, as I still had many cities to go.

So, after the year was up, I couldn't part with the calendar and decided to have some of the pages matted and framed for my niece's birthday.  She picked the gypsy for her gypsy soul.

And, the harvest girl holding grapes because, that is what she does.

And, this giclee poster is for me, purchased post trip, in a lovely, thrift store frame.  I looked everywhere for ages for a frame to go with it until I found this one.  She hangs in the living room, but it is too dark in there for a good photo.  Until my niece picks up her frames, I am going to enjoy looking at them in there, too.  Maybe she won't like my matte choices?  Maybe, the frames are too big for her apartment and she won't want them.  Maybe I need to go back to Prague and buy another calendar?  Yes?  No?

My Obsession

Okay, I tried to take a better photo of my adorable little zinnias.  They are the "Cut and Come Again" variety.  I love them for their beautiful shades of color.  I like to cut them when they haven't fully opened.  So you can still see the little, petals still partially formed.

I have a favorite style of vase that I try to find at thrift stores and yard sales because they are perfect for these small flowers.  But, sometimes when I am stripping the leaves, I yank the heads off or there isn't enough stem for this vase.  So, I found some smaller "vases".  I have a pressed glass toothpick holder for these really short zinnias.  It would make me sad to throw a flower away because it is length disadvantaged.

 

Then, I found some old, cut crystal glasses at the thrift store for 29 cents.  I paid a dollar for the cut, champagne glasses.  Yes, all these glasses are all different.  I am sure 60 years ago or so, they were part of a set now reduced to a single.  But, alone they make the most beautiful, mini vases for these mini flowers.  Wouldn't these be the most adorable individual arrangements at a dinner party?  You don't need many flowers to make the arrangement and it just takes a few small fronds of fern to back it.

 

This is a shot glass from San Diego with wild animals on it and the word Africa.  So, I put these hot orange and yellow zinnias in it.

 

I don't really like orange flowers.  But, I think I can live with these.

I like big zinnias, too!