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  • Writer's pictureLisa Dixon

Old Things


As long as I can remember I've had a love for old things. I think it started in my grandmother's bedroom closet. Her closet had a big niche in the back under the eave of the roof that was perfect for setting up a blanket fort made with her old lace tablecloths that she kept on the top shelf. I would drag her desk lamp in there so I could read. The cord didn't quite reach all the way back to the cubby but I loved the way the lamp threw shadows against the lace. I would read for hours in there. Living in a family of twelve, it was a place to find some peace and quiet. If my book was finished I would pass the time sifting through her buttons that she kept in an old candy tin, or page through the mysterious giant braille books stacked against the wall that made the perfect footrest. I spent many a rainy afternoon blanket forting in her closet. I wonder sometimes if my love for visiting antique and thrift stores on rainy days stems from those memories. I have missed my old shop outings. Haven't been to one in over a year and I'm looking forward to going again.


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