This spring I did something I have always dreamed of, since I was a little girl flipping through my Grandma's Country Living magazines for hours on end. I bought a house. Not just a house, THE house. My house. The old brick beauty that had woven itself into my meandering daydreams (and as a creative person with undiagnosed, but almost certain ADD, my daydreams were and still are wont to meander). I didn't know her details, that house - only that she would be big, and brick and old. You see to some things lose their value with age and wear, but to me age means wisdom, and faults - whether they be cracks, peeling paint, or colors fading in the sunlight, are like wrinkles in a happy old woman's face. They are well earned, from untold years of smiles and tears, and to be respected and cherished. A good person grows more beautiful to the ones she is loved by, and so it should be with the things we hold onto in this life.
I for one, am a collector of things. There is no set rule which dictates to me the value of a thing. It may be its color, or its texture, or its history. It may be an inexplicable pull that draws me to it. Often the price value is nil, but to me, I still see its worth. For a teacup with a chip may not hold monetary value, but if it brings a smile to someone's face, it has earned its keep.
This website, aptly named "Bric-a-Brac", which is a French term that basically means "stuff". Aren't the French ever more lovely with their terms than we? Anyhoo- this is a place for me to post the progress - and very likely the setbacks - of the transformation of my house, from an old storefront that has seen the peddling of everything from cabinets and coffins, European pastries, and quilting supplies, to now owning the dubious honor of being home to myself and my two children.
I welcome you along on my journey.
