I stop for Junk

I am moving something from my old blog to here.  I only took 2.5 pieces of furniture with me to California when I moved:  1) a bookcase my grandfather made, 2) my painted branch, 3) this sewing/craft table.  I found it on the street on a bloody mary ingredient run looking sad, stained, worn out, and generally unloved and unwanted.  Thousands of miles later, it has become the centerpiece to a room that is the heartbeat of my new life.  I think there is something to be said about that.  xo LPD


I love me a good bloody mary.  Did I ever tell you that?  Probably.  Why?
1.) They are delicious. And if that's not enough...
2.) They bring girlfriends together over Sunday brunches.  Who couldn't love something that does that?
3.) They take you on treks that bring you to junk gems like these:

Wowy wow wow!  And you know what makes it even better?  Drinking said bloody mary after cleaning said beautiful furniture piece in the sunset.  This is my idea of wonderful.

This has also confirmed that I need to buy a junk truck.

 To make things even better, wanna see what I found inside? :)
Cost of all this fun?   Free.