So why Ruby's Attic, you ask? Well, we have to go way, way back. From the time I was a teeny tiny little girl, I spent my evenings after school and every summer with a very, very special lady, my Great Grandma Ruby. To know Grandma Ruby was to love her. She was kind, and strong, loved Jesus fiercely, and her family meant everything to her.

When my sisters and I were at her house, we were free to create, imagine, and try new things. We spent hours cutting and gluing construction paper, carpeting, and wallpapering our wooden dollhouse, using scraps of fabric to sew our barbies their own pillows and blankets. We baked in the summer heat in her backyard, splashing around in the little plastic baby pool with a slide that she would buy for us every year. Our favorite thing though was climbing up the creaking stairs to her attic to the rooms where she kept all of her fabric scraps, buttons, and ribbon, and our mom and aunt's dresses from the 80s. Grandma would let us bring them downstairs and play in them all day long. She had so much big costume jewelry we would go through and accessorize with. We would take the bolts of fabric up there and create our own dresses and cut, pin, and secure them all day long. We would find artificial flowers and make bouquets, decorate her living room up as the church and have "weddings" or dances, or sing Patsy Cline to her record player. I always felt so fabulous in those dresses and had the best time.