I grew up watching my dad in his workshop turning old decrepit furniture into beautiful pieces again, and it instilled in me a love for the old, and a desire to look for treasures in the unlikeliest of places. I was a homeschooled child, and my dad was a pastor, so with our flexible schedules, my mom, dad, and I would spend Fridays driving the Pennsylvania hills looking for out-of-the-way antique stores and the forgotten neglected pieces subjected to the weather on the front porch. He worked magic. Though I still love the smell of wood, and the silky texture of a newly refinished surface, it wasn't my gift. I married, had three daughters of my own, homeschooled them, and followed my husband in his military career around the country. I lost my sense of wonder for the old treasures, I was too busy to dream. My husband retired and my girls grew up and found other teachers. I had time to dream again, and I found the treasures.