I know the importance of memories and preserving them and wanting to take a walk down memory lane. It’s one of my favorite things to do. I love listening to other people’s stories. I will say this, I am not an expert in every avenue of vintage and antiques but I know what I like and I will always find a way to help you.

2013 I started this business in a small little shop that my husband and I actually hung out in when we were teenagers. In 2015 I moved up the street and bought the antique store. I have coveted the building since I was a young girl. My mom actually worked in it when it was a clothing store. “One day you will be mine.” One day came and now here we are. Being a business owner is a lot of work. I cannot imagine doing anything else.
Black and white photos, kitschy 70s, Mid Century Modern, vintage florals, pewter, white ironstone, tarnished silver … these are some things that make my heart sing.
I loved sitting with my Grandpa Everertt in his workshop and just digging through his old tools and nuts and bolts bins. Everything was organized and perfect. He was a painter and the smell of turpentine and sanded wood was always there. My Grandma Bea was the epitome of Leave it to Beaver. She was poised and classy and could make a refrigerator leftover lunch look and taste like she spent hours creating it. She would let my sister and I cut up all her old birthday cards and valentines and Christmas wrap to make crafts. I would spend hours marveling at the fun and beautiful valentines and her perfect handwriting. Counting and sorting all of her beautiful buttons was my favorite pastime. My parents were the complete awesome coolness of the 70s. Bell bottoms, hot pants, wide collar shirts. My mom had this great straight dark hair and my dad had killer sideburns. We lived in this awesome trailer park and were surrounded by love. My sister and I grew up watching MASH, Hogan’s Heroes, Archie Bunker, Dukes of Hazzard and The Andy Griffith Show. The 80s came when we were teenagers. Big hair, rock bands, Madonna and The Brat Pack.



My Grandma Marylou was a treasure hunter and her house was filled with vintage wallpaper and all the cool 70s. She was a local cake decorator and when I knew she was baking I would get off of the school bus by her house, sneak in and dip my hand into the vintage apple cookie jar that she would fill with cake scraps for me to grab. That cookie jar is sitting in my kitchen now. I also have things from Grandma Bea and Grandpa Everett.