I. Love. Her.

I spotted her out of the corner of my eye among the oodles and oodles of crap/treasures at Hunt and Gather. She's creepily fabulous with her slightly upturned grin/scowl and her prominent German nose. If she was still alive (painting circa 1920) she would definitely have I Feel Bad About My Neck on her short list of good reads. I mean, seriously, get a look at her gobbler! I bet she was a real bi-atch in the best-est sense of the word. The kind of broad who curtly sat in the front pew at church, but flew home to tear the top off the bottle of moonshine with her teeth. Yup, that's her. Forty bucks later (my Hubby says I got screwed) she earned her NEXT resting spot atop my mantle. NEXT, because who knows were she will land once her immortal life with me is over. But here's the real question... Where did she come from? I mean someone loved/hated her enough to paint her and now she ends up somehow, someway unwanted (except by me) at a local antique store. Where's her family, why isn't she creeping out her great, great, great grand kids friends instead of mine? Anywayz, she is fabo and I've decided she's my good luck granny. Oh, and her name... Mathers. Granny Mathers because Martina said so...

P.S. Antique art = Saving a Landfill. I love this peice (artist unknown) and this peice by my Great Uncle Quinten (painted for my MOM) too.