Sunday, March 13, 2011

Home and Hortense

The farmers declaration: my fantasy
Home to blog today as I had some difficulty with log-on yesterday.  Sitting in the kitchen with hot lemon water, looking out at the many fallen branches from our wild winter.  The wind is up again, but not as cold.

About ten years ago, my predecessor went to an Antiques Barn Sale way up in Maine and brought back, among other things, a nineteenth c. bust of a mysterious woman which had apparently been left under
a water spout for decades.  I was smitten.  Serge, the owner of our shop seemed less interested in her than in his score of a full sized French bust which he thought was terra cotta: more on that later.

I adopted her and dressed her up with rose garlands and ribbons for Mothers Day, a crown and necklace
of shells for summer, a wheat crown for Fall and a rather pagan costume of greens at Christmas.

She was traded for an antique italian mirror when I bought the shop and for five years her whereabouts were unknown to me.

A little miracle to find her once again still sweet faced, but pretty dirty perched among a lot of junk. And for sale for a song.

So here is Our Good Lady of the shop - whole again after a decapitating misshap that is best forgotten, her neck slightly camouflaged with a brown silk ribbon. (that's how we found out she's probably plaster of Paris, no terra cotta).

Seagulls coming in from the Bay.  Think I'll take the dogs out before it rains.

1 comment:

marlowe said...

Queen Hortense! (Even with half her head, she is most regal.)