Good things are always where they are meant to be, and leap out at me at the right time. A couple of weeks ago I was at a church garage sale flipping through the frames when I found this print from 1923. Breathless and beaming with joy, I gave the saleswoman the $0.25 for it, thanked her while telling her my scheme, and covered the frame in a bag before my mom saw.
My mom was totally oblivious, which is pretty astounding because she always has premonitions about gifts. Maybe that's a mom thing. Anyway, this vintage, found, faded, faithful, floral, framed, poetic, typographic gift is beautiful in so many ways--just like the wonderful lady who proudly propped it up on her mantel today.