Driving home from the hospital (where we went to see our friend) this evening, I pulled into our village, drove pass the four hundred year old trees, pass the two stone fountains, down the narrow road lined with houses three floors high that date back to the 1600s, and on the corner next to the communal dumpster stood fifty or more, rolled up very old French flags.
I briefly stopped the car, rolled down window and starred at them. By the size of the poles, the flags had to be at least four feet long and three feet wide. Parade flags I imagined. I rolled up the car window and drove away. The Brocanteur Girl inside of me yelled, "Hey, wait a minute, what are you doing? Go back! Go back! Save those flags." But the Tired Me replied, "I don't want to. And what am I going to do with fifty or so big French flags?" The Brocanteur Girl carried on, "What are you talking about? When did what-am-I-going-to-do-with-these-old-things every deter you from taking something old home?
The Brocanteur Girl pleaded to deaf ears, "You could give them away?"
I parked the car, walked to our home, open the door, lite a candle, poured myself a glass of wine, and didn't give the flags another thought.
French Husband and Chelsea arrived a few hours later... carrying in two French flags. I starred at the beautiful old French flags in disbelief. French Husband and Chelsea in sing song fashion told me, "We saw the flags on the side of road by the dumpster! We thought of you in a heartbeat. Though we thought might not want them in the house as they are blue white and red... not your color palette, but we thought, if you didn't like them they would go into Papa's office." (Papa is how Chelsea and Sacha refer to French Husband.)
I asked, "Were there any more?"
"No, only these two."
I told them my story, of how I just didn't have the energy to get out of the car and take some.
"Fifty!! And you didn't take a single one?"
I shook my head no. The two of them starred at me as if I were a ghost, their utterly surprised faces made my mouth curl into a smile.
I would never guess that the two of them would have actually stop and dumpster dive, and that I, proclaimed die hard brocanteur, would drive by.
Wonders never cease... We have two very old French flags to wave to our friend who opened his eyes briefly today.