Thank God it's Furday...

When we made the leap a year ago from city to country we decided to splurge and hire movers. I had moved my stuff, myself, for two decades plus and that was enough. We were feeling rich(ish), and the idea of paying someone else to handle the headache seemed too good to pass up.
I have since spent a year trying to find said stuff in the sea of boxes still jammed into our basement. I guess I should have been at the meeting that riddled out the method to their madness, sadly I was not. As a result, I do not know where anything is. By now I have forgotten most of what is even down there (perhaps a clear indicator that I don't actually need all of that stuff, but that is a post for another day)
Last winter I was unable to locate my stash of vintage fur coats (of course I never thought to look in the large box marked "taxidermied fish"). A recent flood prompted a mass opening and ultimate score. Out they came, smelling like you would if you'd hung out in a dampish basement for a year, but I was happy to see them none the less. For a hoodie and jeans girl I have a real soft spot for rhinestone buttons, silk linings and dramatic collars that can be turned up on the coldest nights in January.
The kids and I shook them off, aired them out and then spent the next few hours playing lions and tigers and "big pink bear"! 

Oh my! 

xo.