Around here, scrounging through flea markets and junk shops is sport. Sunday morning. Coffee in hand. Eye for the prize. Some days we get nothing. Some days it’s a haul. We love a good score. Our last outing resulted in a carload of vintage laundry basket, enamel ware, and vintage textiles. And poodles. Yes, poodles. […]
Frequently, disaster is the only descendant of my creative gestations.