Lightning Strikes, Maybe Once, Maybe Twice

I don't know if it's in my blood, but it must be.   My maternal grandfather put it in my head at a very young age by calling me a gypsy.  His family was from Budapest where his father was the editor of the Budapest newspaper.  I guess that is where my mad writing skills come from.  yeah, sure... 

I spent pretty much every day, all day, with my grandparents for about three years while my mother and father owned/worked at their restaurant.  I was not old enough yet for school, so my mother dropped me off with them every morning and I wasn't picked up until late at night.  I know this because my grandmother would take me into the basement to play jump rope or do whatever during the evening news because we had to "be quiet" so my grandfather could watch it in peace. (I get that now... unfortunately)

I remember always wanting to go into my grandmother's dresser drawers to look through her jewelry.  I would try on her necklaces, earrings (she had clip-ons, so this was doable), rings, anything I could get my hands on.  She was always very willing to let me sift through whatever I wanted and play 'dress up'.  She would even apply some hideous bright, red lipstick and we'd laugh while looking in the mirror.  I'm sure my mother was not the least bit amused especially after the time I had perfectly applied her powder blue eye shadow (it was the 70s, what can I say) at the age of three.  If you come to a family dinner, there is a 99% chance she will tell the story.  I think she was actually VERY amused and is now rather forgetful because she tells the story like she has never told it and no one has ever heard it.  [insert eye roll here]

Back to the gypsy thing... I do not have some crazy itch to 'wander'.  The only wandering I've been doing lately has been in my brain and not knowing what kind of car I own or how to spell words, as we all know.  I do, however, feel a strong urgency to know more about my Hungarian background.  Why did my grandfather call me a gypsy?  Why has it rattled my brain for so many years?    And why do I have an obsession with big, gaudy rings, long earrings and necklaces?   I love everything gaudy.  Oh hell, if I could live in one of those gypsy wagons and read tarot cards or scry into a crystal ball all day, I probably would.  I'm not sure I'd have any sort of accuracy, but I think I could learn to love trying.

Okay, back to real life!

I just ordered these gorgeous earrings (custom made) from one of my favourite Etsy stores, TheGypsyRebel or you can find her on facebook, TheGypsyRebel - FB.  You can also find her blog at Murmur of Wings.

I'm saving them for a special occasion, although, I don't know what that is yet.  I can't wait to get them.  They are being shipped out today.  Lindsay does beautiful work with the ability to bring out the gypsy in you even if you aren't quite sure what that is.  She's amazing.  I urge you to check out her store.  She is taking a small break right now until spring, but keep her in mind.

And, here is my proof that from a very young age, I was a gypsy at heart.  My favourite Halloween costume was going as a gypsy.  How cute am I? (rhetorical)  

Little Hungarian Gypsy, 2-years-old