A week ago tonight I was permanently affixed to the fireplace at my grandfather's house. I kept that sucker going all through the night and day (no paper or lighter fluid!) and only left it to snap a few photos in between miserable rain showers.
My grandfather's hiking pack, still full of gear, and my grandmother's sweater pretty much shifted my whole concept of clothes as a kid, from neon stirrup pants to wanting to wear exclusively barn coats and flannel. Here is where I first devoured a j. peterman catalogue.
Grandpa's car is basically the most beautiful vehicle ever made. I could just sit in the passenger seat in the garage all day long, pretending to be whoever would ride around in a jag in the late 60s. He really was a gentleman, the glove box even has his old driving hat and gloves with the holes on the knuckles.
PS- It just dawned on me a glove box is called a glove box because it's wear you stash your driving gloves. Am I right or am I right?!
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