There was an estate sale down the street and I came home with this mirror — which is actually a little bit to big for the space. Hmmm. I think it’s pretty, though.
It was a funny old house that I thought had long ago been broken up for student apartments, but it hadn’t. An old woman owned that house and the one next to it, which is apparently full of furniture but unlived in. She was keeping it in case her son moved back, but he never did. There’s a tiny lot next door full of fruit trees, too.
She had lovely things, and it was a beautiful house — wider than ours and with a nice big staircase. I wonder what will happen to it. The master bedroom was huge with a whole wall of casement windows opening onto the street, but into a row of plane trees. You never would have known from the outside. And the bedroom was painted a leafy green, which seemed like an odd choice for an old lady.
Actually, it was all a little sad. Remind me not to buy the house next door and fill it with furniture for the girls.
I am home with some sort of ague, although I’m feeling a little better. Jimmy is sleeping on my knitting. Lucy prowls the dining room.
I really should go pick up some cleaning to send to M, and then mail off several packages and get some coriander. I really should . . . I’m hungry, which is surely a good sign.
