The Honeywell farm

Lest you think (and rightly so) that I am turning into a crabby old miser, I'm going to give you a present. A really really good present to make up for all of the whiny crap I've been churning out this month.

Remember the barn? Yes, of course you do. Who could forget. Well, if you thought the barn was good, welcome to the house that barn belongs to. It made me honest to goodness cry. Walking around it the first night, I was all teary. It was really embarrassing.

And now for a bit of back story-

I work at a truly spectacular antique store on the weekends. A store to make doves cry. A store that I haunted long before ever I worked there and a store that when I stand behind the counter, my heart still races with crazy antiques fever. When I got the job, I was thrilled because I could stay in the shop for hours staring at things and have it not be weird, cause hey, I worked there.

The store is called Moon River Chattel and if you live within a 3 days drive of williamsburg, you should pack your bags and leave tonight to meet me there on friday. If you have any sort of soul, you will not be disappointed.

Long story short, this is Mr and Mrs. MRC's house upstate. On a 23 acre former dairy farm. Living the dream.

They invited us three shop girls up for a weekend and the trip blew a fuse in my brain. Now all I can do is mumble and sigh a lot when I try to describe how perfect it was.

Like right now. I should have something insightful to say about how they left the original layers of wallpaper etc... but I can't even get a proper, non idiotic sentence out. I'm too busy being googly eyed and stammering.