In a post I did last year I talked about going home.
I went to the home I grew up in.
An old farm house that is over 100 years old, most of it anyway.
The man whom had the house built was a supervisor in the railroad and he had the workers spend some of the work at his house.
There once was a driveway lined in cobblestones, pathways in the grass leading to the, at one time "cow house."
There still stands a screened in patio with a cobblestone fireplace, that housed many a party.
That house I grew up in.
My dad was a school teacher/weekend cattle farmer.
My mom was a stay at home mom, she did not work outside of the home until I was in my late teens as a Real Estate agent.
But, that was not all she did.
She knew her antiques, we went to a lot of auctions and garage sales.
I grew up around vintage and antiques.
My mother sewed slipcovers to cover the ugly sofa she bought cheap at a garage sale. She upholstered the wing back chair she bought at an auction.
She painted or striped the furniture for the house.
The house I live in.
I love.
I tried to recreate some of the details from the home I came from.
Wide floor boards, crown moulding, large moulding and trim around the windows and doors.
Mismatched furniture in every room.
I learned to paint (I am not a striping kind of gal) I like my WHITE paint.
I learned to sew from my mother.
I sew slipcovers to cover my vintage furniture, to make it more ME!
I upholster dining room chairs.
I use vintage as much as I can.
I am my mother's child.
I live in a farm house of my dreams.
I am sharing my new/old farm house with;
Thanks for stopping by, remember it is only a box.
It is all up to you what you put in the box to make it what you want.
Have a wonderful weekend.