My British friend Angela has a gorgeous accent and a charming vocabulary. I love her word for the little fripperies we haul home from our travels together: “bits,” she’ll say, filling her carry-on with teacups and earrings, or paper straws.
Bits = the small, inexpensive, pretty objects of life.
I love bits.
(Angela’s husband has ordered her to not bring home any more bits.)
I keep telling myself the same, but can’t obey. Some new favorites:
A vintage silver salt cellar in my cupboard of bits.
A miniature clock for inside the medicine cabinet — yes, late again. (From Kitty, something like $12.)
Ty’s Sunday morning donut ritual under a mini silver dome from The Grey House, my favorite antique store in Tucson.
And little Miss Scarlett dancing in my living room in her pink nightgown — the best bit of all.