When it comes to the brocante, I am ready when you are.
When it comes to the brocante, I am ready when you are.
After a whirlwind of visitors and meeting so very many of you this year, I have decided to take the plunge: To do the brocante thing full on.
Crazy how a girl can change. Crazy how after eight years of saying, "No I do not do brocante tours, nor do I organize tours." I have finally come to my senses: Let's do it.
It seems to me that after meeting nearly two hundred of you, who read my blog, this year and finding out that 99.99 percent of you like the brocante, wine and bring me maple syrup that I cannot say no any longer.
Maple syrup, wine and the brocante... Holy cow only Yann's kisses are better than that.
Hope to see you soon?
Yesterday, a group of eleven wonderful women, most who read my blog, went to a local brocante with me and then came to our home for a brocante feast.
As always it was delightful to put faces to the names of emails and comments I have received over the years, plus re-connect to those I have had the pleasure to meet before: Barbara, Laura, Stephanie, Sue and Anna.
French Husband joined us, as did our new friend Lorna.
The house was full of women, chattering about the brocante and old things that make France France. Or you might say it was brocante bug maddness.
Luckily the forecast for rain turned out to be wrong.
Oh la la. I cannot believe after the hundreds of wonderful guesses you came up with, and reminders of things I need to have for the apartment (thank you), that not one of you guessed it. Close but not enough.
I loved the responses... Hair net, toilet paper, bedpan, ironing board, bibles, old ledger for guests to sign, dart board.... to name a few!
Remember what I said that I hoped to frame in the bathroom.... Well French Husband, John and Camy found it ... When Camy pointed it out, I was a bit overwhelmed.
Provocative is putting it very very mildly.
Sacha later said... your guests will die when they see these. You cannot put it in the bathroom.
Finder's keeper. I'll take him.
The shirtless workers, remember those guys... blame it on them. Actually just blame the leak. No, just teasing accidents happen, God do they ever!
Would you like to see more? Not accidents but charcoals of nude men? I must say there is plenty to see.
Oh la la plenty.
This amazing thing called blogging has introduced me to a world of kindness from strangers, friendships worldwide, matchmaking, job opportunities, travel adventures and more. It is unbelievably wonderful how generous you have been to me.
Because of this generosity I have experienced time and time again, and because of the many gifts of friendship I have received (Bluffton, Ireland, L.A., Hong Kong, Marburger, Mexico to name a few...) I offered several readers of Tongue in Cheek room and board in our home for one week.
Last Tuesday French Husband went to the airport to pick up the first winner of our giveaway: David and Teresa from Oklahoma.
We haven't stopped since they touched ground.
Today we went to visit some friends of ours (that we also met years ago through blogging), Vlad and Denise from Canada, who have a lovely home in Cotignac.
Denise made lunch for Yann and I, Thierry, and our new friends.
Denise's brocante Provencal table.
Teresa and Dave have never been to Europe. I am so happy to give them a taste of Provence: Rosemary, thyme, lavender, olives, pastis...
They will stay with us for a week, and then they are off to Paris for a few days.
The brocante is tomorrow and Teresa is salivating, a shared passion this brocante thing.
Teresa and her husband love art, music, laughter... they brought Yann a handmade wooden flute that Dave made!
I want to meet everyone who reads my blog.
Today was lovely, watching new and old friends connecting and sharing the day with interest and caring for one another. Heaven is certainly like this.
A true paradise of happiness.
It was wonderful, more than I can say, to see Thierry, one of our dearest and oldest friend in France, share the day with us.
Thierry sang. Denise sang and sang. Dave sang.
Yann played the flute.
Teresa, Vlad and I we clapped.
Happy playing a hand made wooden flute:
Friendship is a gift.
Photograph of French Antique textiles by Corey Amaro
Several months ago Jeanne M. asked me if I would be interested talking to a group of women about living in France, and share my stories about the brocante. Without a moment of doubt I said yes. Jeanne M. organizes groups of twenty to come over to France. Their common interest is that they are quilters.
I reminded Jeanne M. that I do not quilt, or sew, nor darn, knit, cut fabric or thread a needle.
Though my Grandmother made a quilt for each of her grandchildren, which there are about fifty of us. The quilt my grandmother made me is made of wool coat scraps, she gave it to me when I came to France.
Also several months ago I gave several one week stays, to several blog readers of mine, to come stay in my home. The first couple arrives tomorrow. Which also happens to be the day that I am to give a talk at a local restaurant to Jeanne M.'s quliting group.
Several months ago I had no idea we would still be working on our apartment renovation in Paris.
French Husband and I come home a few days ago.
Sacha made sushi.
Chelsea shook hands with President Hollande.
Our friend Thierry is improving steadily.
Annie is well.
My brother Mathew still doesn't dig the brocante.
Four of my cousins celebrate a birthday today: Sacha's Budda Mere Julie, Rhonda, Natalie and Thea... and possibly a few more.
Why am I telling you all this? Blame it on blogging.
Actually, I should be cleaning my house, or ironing the sheets, or preparing tomorrow's talk, or setting up the apartment, or telling you about Sushi and about the hand shake...
Instead I am enjoying this moment to write to you about my next adventure.
Do you quilt?
Do you eat Sushi?
Have you ever shook hands with a President of a country before?
Chelsea and Sacha were born in France.
Maybe that is way old things don't wow them as much as they do me.
Maybe when you grow up with old things all around you, new things have a different sparkle that catch the eye.
My children, young adults now, love to tease me, at least I think it is teasing when they say, "Our home...chairs that are uncomfortable, mirrors you cannot see yourself in..."
They do not have a passion for old things. They don't "get" the beauty of peeling, cracked, chipped, 18th century... blah blah blah.
I have been antiquing, or as they say in French: Chineur, since the beginning of my time. The brocante bug bite me when I was 12 or 13. The first thing I ever bought with my own money (babysitting) was a 1920s blue beaded bag.
Do I still have it?
Somewhere out of reach... and memory.
Imagine my utter shock today while at the brocante I received a message on my phone that said, "Hi Mom, (adds a giggle) just calling to say that Mr. Espresso and I are at the bro-cante, in Saint Ouen, yeah that happened... is happening... I just wanted to call and say hi."
I nearly fainted.
I think I have listened to that sweet message ten times if not twenty. Pure music.
That adorable brocante bug, that I love so much, has finally bitten my daughter!
They (Mr. Espresso and Chelsea) bought an industrail piece to use as a coffee table.
I think this might mean Mr. Espresso is bitten too.
Oh Brocante bug.
Oh young lovers.
I think they wouldn't mind me buying them a pair of old locks to love lock themselves in Paris.
Oh the pleasure to be able to call Chelsea a chineur!
Sacha are you listening?