the silvery moon

Supposedly, the last month was one of the best harvest moons we've had.

Here in California, I'm not sure we would have seen the entire beautiful effect,

but I did happen to catch a few neat pics of it soon after sunrise a few weeks ago.

The full moon is my connection to my dad, who has been gone for nearly 15 years.

He used to sing the sweetest little song about the moon all during my growing up.

Every time the moon is full, I think of my dad watching over me and feel he is there.

~

By the light of the silvery moon

I want to spoon, with my honey and croon love's tune

Honeymoon, keep a'shining in June

Your silvery beams will bring love's dreams

We'll be cuddling soon, by the silvery moon.

Today is my blog's 2ond anniversary!

Fun things coming next week in honor of that milestone!

For now I'm dedicating my bloggie birthday to my dad and his silvery moon ❤

the Chair of Many Colors

I finally brought it home. Finally. 

I had my eye on this old, paint splattered stool for, gosh, at least a year, maybe more. It was for sale in a local antiques mall, and I would faithfully visit it every time I stopped by. I couldn't figure out why I was so drawn to it. Other than the fact that I love old wood. And a lot of color. Splattered. 

Perhaps it was the turquoise paint... I finally realized this stool reminded me of my father. I'm not even sure why. I've thought and thought. I have a vague recollection of a turquoise bird house he built with my brother when I was very young. He didn't do things like that often. He had a workshop, had some tools, but my father was mainly a businessman. Strange, that an old battered stool with globs of paint would remind me of him. 
I am happy with the recollection though, and the connection. I do think it must be the turquoise paint, and all the splatters. I am very content with this stool reminding me of my father. He's been gone 13 years now. He was already in his fifties when I was born. I will be without him a long time in my life. It gives me unexpected and welcomed comfort to look at this stool and remember him. 

But I so nearly missed it, came so close to never having the chance to bring it home. The thought makes me shudder.

I wandered into the antiques mall just before New Year's, when to my dismay, the place was nearly empty. They were closing - it was their very last day! NO! I ran to where the stool had always been, only to find an empty corner. I was heartbroken. I had had so many chances. 

I inquired where the owner of the stool might be, and was stunned to find her out front loading her truck. The old stool? With all the paint? Please, where is it? It was already in storage... but she would be happy to bring it back for me - and sell it at a discount. Bless her! 

So that is how I finally brought my father's stool home. It must have been meant to be. 

Someone else decided they wanted a chance to be photographed also.

And when that cranky client left, this one decided she wanted a turn.

I'm ready for my close-up. Hellooooo!

Okay, I admit it. I had to have a turn as well :) What a great stool.