Many years ago my mother graced our front porch with a vintage church pew. It was rather non-descript initially, but in my mother's own special way, she jazzed it up.
Mom once won a prize for having the most beautifully-decorated Christmas home in East Hartford, CT. She used a birdcage in her Christmas decor before shabby was even chic.
The house with the church pew was in a beach community in New York and had terracotta colored shutters. Mom painted the church pew to match. She placed two huge round terracotta planters on either end and planted orange impatiens that spilled over in rioteous color. The house was a not uncommon looking Cape Cod, but she made it look special.
Ever since then, I have wanted an antique church pew. Not long ago, I was able to barter some blog work for a business in exchange for the pew I'd had in mind since I was in my teens and a marvelous metal tray with a sepia-toned chippy landscape on it.
I thought the stairwell area needed a little something, so I made a wreath out of coffee filters. I also got a small third-degree burn on my thigh from dripped hot glue, but we won't talk about that.
I was on a vintage roll that week, when I stopped in Goodwill for a spotting operation and found Webster's Unabridged Dictionary from 1935.
