Prairie Promises

Well bonjour, and welcome to Wednesday.

I was leaning heavily on the glam for quite some time, and now I, like all the best pendulums, find myself swinging in a different direction.

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 My seven-year-old is fiercely interested in collections.  She has a stressful number of collections.  I asked her once why she feels like she needs so many of them, and she told me, "I don't like to play with any of my collections for too long, because I love them all, and don't ever want to get bored of any of them." Also, she doesn't like eating leftovers because they don't taste "newish." Don't even try to pretend you don't feel the same way.  I only eat them out of a sense of budgetary and environmental duty.  Newish tasting, they are not.

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I visited a historic general store recently, like from the Gold Rush, and was really excited about it.  I didn't expect to get so excited, but I should have known that I'd get swept up in the time machine of it all.  I love old stuff.  Give me all the old stuff! But dust it off first, please.  Not a fan of dusty stuff at all.  All of the clothes in the old store were super basic and useful and industrious looking and I loved them.  While fully aware that typhoid and falling into the well were legitimate issues back then, I definitely had some pretty deep fantasies about sweeping the porch of my prairie homestead while clothed in a calico frock.

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I think I might be following this homestead vibe for a while, but I can't make any strict promises.  After all, we've already agreed that leftovers don't taste newish, and so I might have to sweep the porch in glitter boots just to make sure nobody gets bored. 

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Thanks for reading, everyone! Have a super sweet midweek evening.