in with the old

we just returned from a whirlwind trip to BC, and i'm still feeling a little spinney.  the first few days were spent in washington, with scott's parents, at a time share in port townsend.  have you ever been there?  it's on the olympic peninsula - where coincidentally 'forks' also resides, but not to worry, i did not glimpse either a vampire, werewolf or sulking teenage girl.  the town is filled with architecture from the late 1800s, beautiful little shops, a couple lighthouses (one of which i was told you could rent for an evening), and many thrift stores chock-a-block full of rich peoples discards.  bliss! 

i have never been one for antiques.  my father versed me from an early age on the philosophy "why buy something old when you can get it new?".  i have this dear friend, however, who is winning me over to the old side.  her house (yes, lindsey, i'm talking about you here) is filled with little treasures snagged from garage sales or small town thrift.  every time i enter i take some time to walk around, feasting on the eye candy of little vignettes positioned just so - an antique vase with a fern planted in it beside a snow-globe-like-object containing a small plastic deer, a sea shell and a cloth covered book.  i look at that dear little deer, caught forever behind glass, and think 'how did she know'?  i never would have seen the possibility of greatness. 

but, i thought i'd give it a shot this week and i think that, for my first foray into an antique store (with the intention of buying something) i came out alright!  i bought four little student slates - those personal black boards students would use before paper was cheap.  i'm going to use them as place mats - i did tonight in fact.  and i wrote out the menu on one of them.  why not?  my daughter tried to read it off as the "big reveal" of dinner, but she didn't add enough theatrics so i had to take over.  "just to give you the general idea" i explained.  i can picture beatrice potter walking around lindsey's house and then running off in a fit of inspiration.  it's one of my favourite places in saskatoon (the fact that it's inhabited by one of my favourite people might also have something to do with it).

on the weekend two people referred to me as "lovely".  separately.  let me be clear - to different people at separate times told me that i'm "lovely".  what a treat!! i had that scene from downton abby play out in my mind, where edith says "if you think i'm going to let a man go who's called me "lovely" you're mistaken!" (or something to that effect).  it was on the tip of my tongue, but since i was complimented by a man that i hardly knew, it was a little too chancy. 

my my, i must be maturing -  thought before action!!! 

there is something sublime about being referred to by the word, like you've been transported back to an age when affirmations were a little higher brow.  i mean, usually i hear things like "dang girl!  you look hot in that skirt!".  "lovely" has a much more eloquent ring. 

truth be told, i'll take any positive affirmation that even flies close to me.
sadly, the same can probably be said about the opposite.  ah, well, one giant step towards maturity at a time, thank you very much.  i need to leave some room for growth in my 40s.