When my friends moved
out, their parents had to throw a fresh coat of paint on their bedroom walls;
mine had to remud them. It seemed
completely normal to me to mount a bucksaw, a pitchfork, a prairie apron, sheep
shears, show ribbons, war medals and about 2 score vintage framed pictures of farms,
maps, horses, the Queen, the American Civil
War, and Winston Churchill to recount a few.
Saturday mornings my dad would run errands downtown, and sometimes I tagged along. He would drop me off, at my request, about a block away
from the then-crowded, smelly, dishevelled second hand store. I would wander the cramped aisles, touching fabrics, imagining the lives of the
people who wore these clothes and owned these things. There was a tension within me: a curiosity and
desire to see and have these things that were different, imperfect, old, and
yet not have my friends find out how I spent Saturday mornings yardsaling on my
bike or wandering the second hand store.
Before long, I left high school and my perceived need to
keep my secret life just that. I
focused on higher learning, covering every inch of my bedroom walls in
fabulous old pictures and artifacts, and finding The Man. Enter William, dream boat, incredibly, completely
smitten by this unusual maiden. Our
first date was to the very same second hand store I had visited in those first days
of going downtown with my dad. Of
course we fell in love (inevitable really when your first date is to
the second hand store), and got married.
I soon acquired and worked a “real job” for a few years, but
always puttered at some restoration or some burning idea. Baby Samuel entered our lives on a stormy
April night, and very soon after there came in me a rekindled love of adventure,
nature, seashells, leather, wool, sticks, forts, and rocks as I watched him
awaken to these wonders.
Life sped up and slowed down simultaneously. So much came into focus while other things
quietly drifted out of focus.
Baby Katie Jane arrived in the autumn glory of a September
afternoon. And, very soon after, there
stirred in me a love of vintage lace, ribbon, sand, flowers, birds, chintz, velvet,
crinolines and deep peony pink.
My precious family and my dear friends who have partnered
with me, crafted with me and pushed me to try this, all have a part in Found,
as I would not be who I am without them.
Found is the sieve that has caught all that is good of 35 years of
wandering. But it’s not too
refined. I am still that girl who
returns from a walk in the woods with pockets full of treasures and head full
of ideas.
Welcome to Found Decor
Company. May you find what you are looking for.
