Broken, old, mossy stuff? Be still my heart.

I am an old soul. I love creepy old things—crooked old houses, creaky floorboards, old doors and closets, historic hotels, abandoned buildings, shacks on the side of the highway…anything with a past and a couple cobwebs. I am so fascinated with days gone by that I can’t help but daydream about the lives old objects led as they pass under my glance. The hands that must have held that bowl, the sink it was soaped up in, how it was used…. the picture unfurls in my mind.

When Will and I began shopping for our first home, I knew I wanted it to have some history. I dragged him through multiple dilapidated homes, all of which would have cost us a fortune in heat and repair, but swooned over the details: limestone fireplace crest, chipped French doors, stained glass basement door, and moss covered patios. A great sport, my husband is. After numerous “hard-hat tours” of potential homes, we fell in love with an oldie in SoBro that lets us live comfortably and without many dips into the “cookie jar.”

Still, I toddle on real estate sites scanning the homes for sale in historic parts of town, rummaging the Indiana Historical Society, and unraveling the history of our abode. Each year, one of the oldest neighborhoods in Indy, Woodruff Place, has a HUGE flea market, which lasts all weekend. We headed there for the festivities this month, and I snagged 5 pink crystal champagne glasses for $5, while Will picked up some good books and BU apparel. (That's my reflection in the picture above)

Check out the haunts I love so well.