One thing I always love to pick up at yard sales are old books. I love the linen-y texture of the covers and the way they look stacked together. I think it's the simplest and most classic way to decorate.
I picked up these two little guys for a quarter a piece, sheerly because of their pretty covers and spines.
I didn't even bother to open them up until a few days later when I was finding a place for them.
What I found when I opened these books was that they were actually way older than I anticipated
and that the books belonged to a man named Grady who lived in 1894.
I smiled at this coincidence as Grady is the name we picked out for our little boy on the way.
When Josh and I were discussing names before we knew our baby was a boy, I would often suggest names and Josh would reply with, "That's an old person's name."
Well, I like old people names.
But in the argument of names, I never won.
Josh was actually the one who suggested the name Grady when we were just two dating love birds dreaming of our nonexistent children. And it's always kind of stuck with us.
I think he liked it because of baseball player, Grady Sizemore. But I'm realizing that I may have actually won the argument for an old person name.
My conversation with an older gentleman yesterday:
Him: "You know what you got in there?"
Me: "Yeah, it's a little boy."
Him: "A boy. That's great. You got a name picked out?"
Me: "Yeah, his name is gonna be Grady."
Him: "Grady? Every Grady I know is an old man."
Me: *Polite laugh*
And scene.
