A curious tin under the stairs.
What could it be, what could it hold?
A hidden treasure perhaps?
Maybe I was a treasure hunter in a past life?
Maybe a mean ole pirate?
All I know is that finding rusty treasures makes my heart skip a beat.
I think that is part of what made me fall in love with this place.
When you live in a tattered ole love shack, where paint peels on paned windows...
And doors to garden shacks latch like so...
You never know what you might find inside.
I have found so many "treasures to me" at this place.
Oh the tales I could tell.
Some people might not be so excited to find the things I find.
In nooks and crannies, in old canning sheds and crawl spaces.
In barn style closets and little rooms.
I wish I had met the people that lived here before me.
Oh about 20 years ago now.
It was an old woman and man.
He never spoke, looked down a lot, but built sturdy closets and shelves and all manner of things.
He did curious things.
Like put locks on the insides of closets.
Which always amazes us.
I have found tools with his name on them here and there over the years.
Well, to some, she was a royal meanie it seems.
But she left beautiful 40 year old (by now) rose bushes.
That make me think, perhaps she was misunderstood?
They had so many fruit trees and vegetable gardens.
Including an asparagus patch.
Sometimes when I am extra rotten, Mister Lovee says he knows why the old guy put locks inside of closets and rooms and sheds.
So he could escape the woman, and hide away, haha!
I love this place they left behind.
Quirky and weird and tattered.
But back to the tale at hand.
The tale of that tin can.
Did I mention quite heavy as well?
What could be inside?
I peek ever so slowly...
And then swoon to myself.
Shutting it quickly.
Looking up at the sky, as if it has seen what I have.
Then opening it once again.
Oh colorful beautiful marbles!!
Lots of marbles.
I don't know if the old folks had a child?
Or maybe they belonged to the old man?
I have a strong feeling they belonged to the old man.
Who for some reason, strikes me as having whimsy in his heart.
From some of the things I find that he built or did, or hid.
He built closets to withstand movie quality tornadoes.
I'll tell you that much.
But some of the other finds lead me to think such things as well.
I touch the marbles, wondering if they have something to say?
I guess that's the treasure seeker in me?
It isn't just the treasure, you see...
But the story behind the treasure.
The tales they might have.
Like chattering marbles in tin cans...
Hidden in nooks under rickety old stairs.
My heart skips a beat.
Thank you Fenton, for the treasures I have discovered where you once dwelled.
For the peaches in summer.
For the quince in the fall.
For the abundant roses in spring.
For pecans, and the birds who steal them.
For canning rooms turned into art studio and office and bedroom for me.
For little toys under foot, and tin cans of loot in hidden nooks.
For keyholes in the dirt.
And endless other this and thats I have found.
Don't you wish you could sometimes tell people how you love their treasures?
And isn't Fenton such a good name?
Especially for the person who left treasures behind, for one to find?
I wish I could tell the owners of some of my treaures, how things they once loved didn't just end up in a land fill.
How I rescued them, and cherish them.
Somehow holding the memories of people you never knew, close to your heart.
I know you get it.
I know you do.
If you are a thrifter, antiquer or treasure seeker like me.
Which I just know you are.
What's your favorite treasure find?
I love bottle caps found on the side of the road.
I hammer all the ones I find to crosses in my little sanctuary, which is now Baby's graveyard.
Crosses I made from wood found in a flood zone, where houses once stood.
I love rocks too.
But that's a whole other story.
Here's to the treasure seeker in all of us!
May treasure find us where we least expect.
And, may we leave treasures for others to find, to lighten their step.
Now, because I am a tride and true sap -
I have to go cry happy tears over Fenton's lovely marbles.
Which left a huge knot in my throat.
Of the touching to the soul variety.
ps: The winner of the lovebug was #6!!
Deborah L. Fry!!
Hoooray, you won! ♥