The Boxer

I have a shadow box fixation. I blame my grandmother, Nonnie. When I was a little girl, Nonnie had these delightful little shadow boxes hanging in her entryway. The dioramas depicted primitive country kitchens with a charming little mouse featured prominently in each one. I adored them and never forgot about them. Unfortunately, my grandmother hadn't kept them when she moved to a new home, so I had to turn to Ebay in my quest for replacements. Ebay rarely lets me down, and that time was no exception. They were made by Enesco in the 1970s, and even though a lot of them were made, there are surprisingly few on the resale market! But Ebay came through for me, and few clicks later, I had adorable mouse dioramas on their way. They've been in my kitchen ever since, and I never tire of them.

How cute are these???

You'd think that two kitchen dioramas would be enough. After all, how many tiny rooms in boxes does one girl need? So far, the answer appears to be four- though I'm not ruling out future acquisitions.

This cheerful Southwestern scene joined the collection after I found it in a junk shop. It's nothing particularly special or valuable, but it's colorful and fun, and that's good enough for me.

I love the dried chili peppers!!

This is my latest find. My mom and I wandered across it this weekend as we were exploring one of my favorite antique stores- the awesomely named Junk in the Trunk. It's missing a couple of pieces, but at $9.50, I consider it a steal. It's (probably) a German Black Forest piece, probably from the 1940s. In great condition, they can go for around $150. This one isn't in great condition, but it's still totally cool, and well worth $10. I wish I knew more about where it came from, but I'm glad to have it either way.

Junk in the Trunk also yielded this really cool cork carving. These were really popular souvenirs in China in the 1940s. My other grandmother, Mimi, had one that now lives at my mother's house. She refused to let me steal it, so I had to buy my own. Then, a year later, I found another tiny one that I picked up for the low, low price of $1.

A whole tiny world in a box!!

My collection of tiny worlds makes me ridiculously happy. Maybe it's because they're so calm. There are no kids arguing, no laundry piling up, no floors that need mopping. Other than an occasional dusting with a paintbrush, they don't need anything to stay serene and lovely. And who couldn't use a little more serenity in their hectic lives!

Shenanigans!!

I don't really know when St. Patrick's Day became a holiday with lots of decorations. I also don't really care, because it's delightful. St. Patrick's Day has all kind of fun stuff- green glittery shamrocks, corned beef, heavy drinking, pinching people... What's not to love? I've embraced all the secular flotsam and jetsom that surrounds the day, and that includes the decorations.

I spent yesterday afternoon turning the living room etagere into an homage to the Irish. Even Goldie Horn got a fabulous shamrock headband!

I threw in some crap from the Dollar Tree and some mini canvases I painted a few years ago, and a fun banner from Target. (Seriously, who doesn't love shenanigans??)

But my very favorite part is my leprechaun village. I made this a few years ago using the cheap little unfinished wooden birdhouses from Michaels. All it took was a bag of pebbles from the Dollar Tree, spackle, craft paint, moss, twigs, and glue to turn them into adorable tiny stone cottages. Add in some moss mats, greenery, and tiny fairy lights, and you have a village fit for a leprechaun king. I stand in front of it and stare at it at least five times a day. It's so green!! And charming!!! I just want to shrink myself and have a pint in the tiny pub. Honestly, I think I might love it more than my Christmas villages, and that's really saying something.

It's even more charming with the lights on!

So even though the leprechauns will only be in residence for two weeks before the bunnies start edging them out, I'll enjoy their little hamlet every day. And if you need me, you can find me staring longingly at miniature cottages, and idly dreaming about pots of gold at the end of rainbows.