Flowers of Mary Judge.

There might be a name for it, but I’ve never heard it. In my lifetime, I’ve met a few people like this. They have a gift for choosing the most beautiful home and with very few adjustments make it the cutest, most pleasant and positive place on earth. Now that I think about it, they […]

There might be a name for it, but I’ve never heard it. In my lifetime, I’ve met a few people like this. They have a gift for choosing the most beautiful home and with very few adjustments make it the cutest, most pleasant and positive place on earth. Now that I think about it, they were all beautiful, delicate females with deep blue eyes; all seemed unaware of their talent, acting as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world–while I sipped tea with a true forest honey, which they’d served me as I kept repeating how beautiful their home is.

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