Violet and Mr. Stubbs were adopted this afternoon. Together. By the same person, which seems curious though they obviously have excellent taste in pet personalities. I am trying very hard not to mind. Violet was so sweet. I felt sure she was the dog for us, but it just didn't work out that way. For what it's worth, we bought 100 feet of fencing and some fenceposts after work this evening. We'll put up the fence over the weekend. The next time we fall in love with a dog we won't have to take a chance on losing her.
So that was a little sad, but it wasn't a totally bad day. I bought the amazing bracelet. It shines like fire and ice in the sunlight. I look at my sparkling wrist and think about how it might have looked on the original owner back in the 20's and 30's. Maybe she wore it to a swank nightclub where a live band played Cuban rhythms and she danced in her bias-cut silk gown, a huge gardenia pinned on the shoulder strap. Maybe it only came out for weddings and funerals, or maybe she wore it casually, just another diamond bracelet from an admirer, ho hum. Or maybe it was a gift from her husband, one they really couldn't afford but he wanted her to have at least one nice thing in her life after all they'd been through together.
I love to speculate on the past lives of vintage jewelry and clothing. It's half the fun of owning them.
The Index
Next Incarnation