Ever one to embrace tradition, the flirtation, for me, is always brief. While I acknowledge the foundational dalliance, I promptly dump tradition on its fusty head. My autumn table is no exception to my fickle whims. This gal does not do ‘red’ and ‘orange.’ If I see another orange mum or pumpkin wrapped in bittersweet, I swear I will scream. And then I will laugh at you for your complete lack of imagination. Sorry, no one ever accused me of being nice.
Getcha some spirits. It's Friday.
All images and layouts by me.
kisses, mrs. V