Oh, no! That's not The Madonna! That's Whistler's Mother! Oh....no....You're still asleep. Not Whistler's Mother, silly. It's.....it's.....oh, think! Think! It's...... The Mona Lisa!!!
It was all I could do not to get up and correct it that right then and there, but I knew I'd never make it back to sleep if I did. It was hard enough as it was.
I think most of my blog friends are more into whites and pastels, but if that little dish is still available by Christmas, I'm bringing her home. I think it would be so pretty in a Christmas display!
My husband often wonders why I'm so willing to tell everyone about my stupid mistakes. Because they are funny! Life is too short. I don't take myself seriously. Well, seriously as in survival, things like that, but I learned a long time ago to laugh at myself. I love to laugh. This can be a bit of a problem at the funeral home and other solemn places. I remember once when I was about 12, sitting at a funeral with my daddy. His stomach started growling and I started giggling. It was awful. I could....not....stop! Everyone was turning around, looking at me. I did that at my son's wedding, too. I first started crying, then laughing because I was crying. Tears streaming down my face and my whole body convulsing. My daughter, who was sitting next to me caught the crying/giggles fever. We were a sight.
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My son will be in town this weekend for a ballgame! Erin, my daughter, lives very close to Auburn, where the game will be played. We'll pick Philip up at her house this evening and he'll spend tonight here. I need to at least get all the fabric strings off the floor and clean the bathroom before this afternoon, so I was determined to stay home today and work. Sound familiar? Can you guess where I'm going with this?
Lena, who teasingly informed me this morning she'd like to be called "Angel-Lena" in the blog, called me, woke me up and started reading off an estate sale in Birmingham. I just don't think I can call her Angel-Lena since I think Satan put her up to calling me, knowing I couldn't resist that temptation. Off we went.
I've never seen anything as unorganized as this sale. Piles of stuff everywhere, like it was just pulled out of the drawers and cabinets and strewn on the floor. Even cat food still in the dish. And it was run by a "professional". So odd. It was advertised as 50 years worth of accumulation, but most everything looked like it was bought in the last 15 years. Even still, I came out of there with only $1.60 left in my pocket.
I did get two, Florentine waste baskets. I just love Florentine things. Here's one that I jumped right on and listed on the web site and the eBay store:
Lena, who teasingly informed me this morning she'd like to be called "Angel-Lena" in the blog, called me, woke me up and started reading off an estate sale in Birmingham. I just don't think I can call her Angel-Lena since I think Satan put her up to calling me, knowing I couldn't resist that temptation. Off we went.
I've never seen anything as unorganized as this sale. Piles of stuff everywhere, like it was just pulled out of the drawers and cabinets and strewn on the floor. Even cat food still in the dish. And it was run by a "professional". So odd. It was advertised as 50 years worth of accumulation, but most everything looked like it was bought in the last 15 years. Even still, I came out of there with only $1.60 left in my pocket.
I did get two, Florentine waste baskets. I just love Florentine things. Here's one that I jumped right on and listed on the web site and the eBay store:
Here's a blue one, but the bottom is cracked, so I haven't decided just what to do with it, yet. Maybe auction?
Oh, and I got two small tapestries, small as in 6" square, that I think I'll keep for myself. I didn't get a picture of those, yet. That'll be another day.
I'm off to clean a bit, now.
