Early Bordello Chic

My friend Jared's, 83-year old, aunt Celia died a few months back.  Yesterday morning he gave me a call. 

Jared invited me to a late breakfast over in Woodland, a town about 20 miles west, and a tad north of Sacramento.  He wanted me to walk-thru Aunt Celia's house with him, and to provide a little advice.  Aunt Celia had never married or had children.  Jared had been her favorite nephew, and the house is bequeathed to him.

The instant I had crossed the front door threshold, I became fairly certain, Aunt Celia had been a dance hall girl in a previous 1850s lifetime. 

Her home for the last 45 years, and especially her bedroom, were decorated in what I would describe as "Early Bordello Chic."  Aunt Celia had been a VERY colorful character!

Picture furnishings from the Victorian era, with red-flocked wallpaper, velvet drapes, and period light fixtures.  The home itself was likely built around 1910, and although it was approximately 1000 square feet or so, it had a remarkably open and functional floor plan.

Jared doesn't have the heart to sell the home in the near future.  He's still very nostalgic about the house, and still grieving the loss of his aunt.  He works in El Dorado Hills, so moving to Woodland, isn't really an option either.  For now, he has decided he will rent it out.

He asked my opinion about whether to modernize, or keep the integrity of the 1910 construction period. 

As I continued to move from room to room, I gazed at the wonderful old wood cabinetry in the dining area, the wood floors, and quality finish craftsmanship we don't see in newer homes today.  

As we neared the end of the walk-thru, I had pretty much came to the conclusion, it would be best to clean the place up, make minor repairs to the kitchen cabinets, and a few other cosmetic things. 

But I caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of my eye, which made me realize Aunt Celia, and I, had to of been kindred spirits!  There on the fireplace mantle, was a jar - identical to one on my own office shelf.  The caption on the jar, "Ashes of Dead Lovers."  

The serendipitous discovery made words leap out of my mouth, as if powered by spontaneous combustion, "Don't change a thing in this house," I said - "It's perfect as it is!"