Giddy for Antiques
You love them.
You love the history of the thing, or the imagined history. Which could be what you make of it, since history is written by the victorious anyway (those who lived to tell the tale), and it might be that the actual truth could be less rosy, or rosier, or be in the in-between (yeah, maybe not much there).
(fact could be fiction and fiction could be fact – but what is reality anyway?)
Well, I love them.
I have been fascinated by antiques since, well, I don’t really know. I have not been exposed to them since houses in our family were demolished with abandon and new ones constructed and the old stuff (furniture, clothes, bric-a-brac, pictures, vinyl records) were stashed away some place or thrown or burned even before I had the consciousness for antiques.