Old timer

There’s a romance about old things that I adore. Time travel devices; I like to imagine what it was like to live way back whenever, as if it was one of my past lives spent in a different time and body.

Everyday this beautiful place I am lucky enough to now call home transports me back to times past. I lie in my bed admiring the ostentatious work-of-art fireplace that looks back at me, wondering who lived here nearly 100 years ago and what was their life.

That this house was built during WW1 might be why this year, for the first time in my entire 36 and half years of breathing in and out, I actually hauled my (sleep deprived and hungover) arse out of the trenches in the middle of the night to attend the ANZAC dawn service.

Yes, to acknowledge and show gratitude for what we have today that we mostly take for granted. But also to trip my mind back to back to periods where war ruled the day and indulge my senses in what it might have been like to live then.

That there’s been no major wars in this house I am sure. A harmony floats around here that cannot be ignored by anyone with even half a sense for energy. It’s just one of those delicious places – and lucky me to find myself living within its glorious old bones.

With a long history of attracting artistic dwellers (so I am told), I love that uncannily and by no conscious design, the tradition continues – today boasting a musician/artist, a fashion designer/seamstress and me.

And where my first thought was to add after that – “at my most optimistic, a writer and wannabe actress” – the enchantment of this lovely old lady suggests I need to get over being so pathetically self-depreciating and just get on with being it :)

So as this confirmed vintage magpie and long time admirer of antiquities unpacks all her old treasured things (that for once are residing in a place where they look like they actually belong), she smiles at the romance of timelessness, imagination and more than a little magic xx