Photos and text by Corey Amaro
Putting up little-worn bits of brocante on my site today.
Went around the house gathering things to sell, and at the same time added things in the empty spots that I want to keep.
It is a never-ending battle of longing for simplicity.
It is a lost cause of keeping it simple around the house.
My passion is the hunt (not so much the gatherer) the chase, the discovery of new (err old) finds…thank goodness for kindred spirits who gather on my online shop. They feed my drug for brocanting. They are brocante angels sent down from heaven, easing my heavy load.
Oh, the stirrings of a romantic brocanteur. Pitiful passion to hunt for brocante, with a confusing desire for simplicity around the house.
God has a wicked sense of humor giving me a split personality. Oh no… actually the heavens have sent me you.
During the last year, French Husband has been going around the brocante with me. At first, he went because I was falling asleep at the wheel. He couldn't stand the idea of me driving, and sleeping at the same time. So much so he put his dislike for brocanting aside. He has been driving me ever since.
At first, I wondered what I would have to do for such an act of love. Funny thing is he has never mentioned it… okay that is not true. He throws a fit every other month. In which case I remind him that I am the mother of his children and I cannot help it if God made me this way. I tell him to blame God.
He tells me that is crazy and I for one should know it.
I pretend I am not listening. Then I say, "You don't need to drive me, I have been falling asleep at the wheel for years, and nothing bad has happened yet."
He shakes his head, giving me that dang-whatever-smile.
He allows me to think I have the upper hand and his silence is a good teacher for my faults.
But here is where it gets tricky. After hanging out with me for a year he has symptoms of catching the brocante bug. Poor soul. I noticed him looking at things, then bending down to touch the stuff, and lately, he has been asking my opinion, "What do you think of this?" and "Do you like that?" and worse, "Should 'we' buy it?"
Oh God, you have a wicked sense of humor giving French Husband the brocante bug.
Oh well if he starts to buy lace underpinnings I might start to worry. But until then I'll count my blessings.
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