When I was growing up, my sisters and I spent Friday nights at my grandparents house playing scrabble or card games.  Most fun of all was Saturday morning.   My grandfather would prepare an enormous breakfast of oatmeal, melon, bacon, eggs and biscuits.  I remember the smells as if it were yesterday.  The sound of the whistling tea kettle is emblazoned in my memory and to this day, I associate it with those happy times.  We ate in a sunny breakfast room overlooking 6 different birdfeeders and whirligigs.  Sugar cubes, honey pots, and a pitcher of creme completed the repast.

It’s funny how the little things make up the really big thing.

Chelsea Bentley James captures the feeling in these lovely paintings.  There’s no place like home.