I'm a dreamer. I cannot stop my imagination from doing a merry whirl around my brain at almost any given time. I've been accused on more than one occasion by people I love that it seems like I'm not paying attention when they are talking to me and I have felt really badly about this. I try extra hard to listen to my loved ones and stay present in the moment because I care very much about what they have to say but I will admit that my mind drifts off into the enchanted world of possibilities, make-believe and romantic wanderlust very very easily. This proclivity towards drifting off into a dream like state can be dangerous or at the very least problematic. Heck, I'm the girl who drove into the outskirts of Chicago because I got on the highway going the wrong way which in and of itself isn't that terrible but then continued on for a half an hour going the wrong way and was not "shook" (is that even a word?) out of my highway hypnosis until I saw the Sears tower off in the not that far distance. I wish I could say that these type of things didn't happen but I'd be lying.
Take for instance this vintage painting. It was found this summer at an estate sale I was shopping at with my sweet husband. All he wanted to know was did I think I wanted to buy it. Like, was the price right for re--selling and would it be fun for the shop. Simple enough thought process. But as I'm standing in front of it at the sale probably not answering my husband's questions I'm thinking that I wonder where this sweet church is located and is Laura Ingalls Wilder a member and did people arrive in a horse driven sleigh to get there on this magical snowy morning. Is there a woman inside wearing an ivory coat with a little shoulder cape attached and is her winter hat trimmed in fluffy white fur. What would it be like to go to this church as opposed to any other more modern church. Do they sing beautiful hymns and most importantly do they host a rockin church bizarre rummage sale annually because you know I love those!
It's a good thing my husband loves me and even more importantly gets me. He will nudge me out of my vintage dreaming stupors to keep things moving along but he never chastises me in any way for taking the imaginative journeys in the first place.
I hid this gorgeous vintage painting away all summer long in anticipation of using it in one of our holiday windows and I'm so happy I did. It looks so happy amongst our other snowy white finds. If you are near to the shop please take a peek into the west window and see the painting. Maybe it will take you on a journey too.
Is there anyone else out there who suffers from my sweet affliction? I'd love to hear about it if you do.