Please join us for shopping with a twist on Friday November 13, 2009 as we present "Comforts of Home"
When I think of the comforts of home, I picture a favorite sweater, soft and worn with time. Sitting by the fire, wrapped in a quilt that my mother made so many years ago bring back so many memories of home. Looking around, there are framed photographs on the wall, some of people I see every day, and others of friends of loved ones that once touched my life , yet are no longer with us. The memories woven, remain alive and an important part of our lives. The antique clock that my great-grandmother cherished, chimes the hour in the next room, and the crackling of the fire seems in tune, counting the minutes.
As I sip my tea from a special antique cup and saucer that was once a part of my grandmother’s treasured collections, I can’t help but remember and smile. No one made a tea party more special than she did. At the end, we’d read our tea leaves as if we could tell the future. Mine was always filled with wonderful things that were sure to come true.
The fragrance of potpourri simmering on the stove, reminiscent of holiday get-togethers, gingerbread and pumpkin pie, and mingling with memories of my mother’s kitchen on any Sunday or holiday, fills my senses. The lit candles, with rich and spicy scents, cast soft shadows around the room, lighting up corners with thoughts of familiar voices and laughter.
The comforts of home reach out from the past and wind their way into those of the present. Our homes, stamped with our own distinct style, with just a touch of nostalgia mixed in. Grandmother’s teacup, the glaze finely crazed with age, sitting on the shelf alongside a favorite new set of coffee mugs. A vintage lamp standing tall, surrounded by candlelight. Among the faded family photographs hangs a framed print that makes you smile just because. A treasured worn sweater lies in a dresser drawer beside a brand new knit cardigan. On the sofa beside me, the colors of a new quilting project are bright compared to the quilt my mother made.
It’s the little touches from generations past that help to make our house a home. Each item is so different from the others, yet nothing feels out of place. It just feels like home.
Joyce Lucas, Founder
Make Mine Pink
As I sip my tea from a special antique cup and saucer that was once a part of my grandmother’s treasured collections, I can’t help but remember and smile. No one made a tea party more special than she did. At the end, we’d read our tea leaves as if we could tell the future. Mine was always filled with wonderful things that were sure to come true.
The fragrance of potpourri simmering on the stove, reminiscent of holiday get-togethers, gingerbread and pumpkin pie, and mingling with memories of my mother’s kitchen on any Sunday or holiday, fills my senses. The lit candles, with rich and spicy scents, cast soft shadows around the room, lighting up corners with thoughts of familiar voices and laughter.
The comforts of home reach out from the past and wind their way into those of the present. Our homes, stamped with our own distinct style, with just a touch of nostalgia mixed in. Grandmother’s teacup, the glaze finely crazed with age, sitting on the shelf alongside a favorite new set of coffee mugs. A vintage lamp standing tall, surrounded by candlelight. Among the faded family photographs hangs a framed print that makes you smile just because. A treasured worn sweater lies in a dresser drawer beside a brand new knit cardigan. On the sofa beside me, the colors of a new quilting project are bright compared to the quilt my mother made.
It’s the little touches from generations past that help to make our house a home. Each item is so different from the others, yet nothing feels out of place. It just feels like home.
Make Mine Pink
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