There is no stronger sense of comfort than the embrace of nostalgia. The years when we were filled with wonder and a spirit of curiosity about the world, when best friends were made in a day and travel was a trip to Grandma’s house. The greatest destination of all. A space wonderfully familiar yet largely undiscovered. Rich in history, love, laughter, and learnings. Through the smiling kitchen and into the knitting room where unstable wool buildings stand high … needles strung, braced for action, the clicking facilitators of her next masterpiece. Growing patchwork reclines around you, its graphic bursts of blooms causing your mind to wander, out the gate, into the garden …

 

Antique red roses wave a soft hello as you spirit down the path and into adventure untold. Roses, always welcoming and with an intangible sense of authority here. They are her pride and joy, and they know it. Vibrant verbenas and the sticky scent of lavender run wild with your imagination … nurturing hands ensure everything flourishes here. No judgement, just unrelenting love. This is how it feels, at Grandma’s house.