Small wonders found at the brocante.
Religious objects or food related items are what I am usually drawn to at the brocante. Maybe it is due to the fact the my DNA is wired that way; I have a brocante bug. Or maybe it is because when I was nineteen I found myself pursuing a religious life by joining a monastery in New Mexico (I bet you didn't see that coming). Or maybe it is what it is: Random.
When I entered the monastery, each member was assigned a task. I was assigned to work in the kitchen. Which if I might add was comical given that the Abbot of the monastery loved to eat raw hamburger with a cracked egg on top. God up above certainly exclaimed, "Oh my God! Is he (the Abbot) for real? Doesn't he know that assigning the tofu lovin' vegetarian to the kitchen is going to cause havoc to his eating habits?"
God has a sense a humor.
I stayed in the monastery for a few years… but that is another story, for another day.
French Husband and my Belle Mere (Mother in Law) went flying in the Mosquito.
They flew over Lake Croix,
They flew over the rows of harvested lavender fields,
They flew over acres of grape vines, terraced hillsides and small villages,
Somewhere between a rock and a hard place Mosquito's engine went dead! Dead.
Now here is the deal… if I were in that plane at that moment what would I have done? I think I would have wanted to kill French Husband but that certainly wouldn't have helped matters.
My Belle Mere sat calmly. Calmly, admiring the view; Not because she didn't hear the lack of the engine's roar, nor because she is hard of hearing, but because she trusted her son completely. Trust is one thing, fear is another. I wonder if trust would have taken the upper hand if I had been in her place? I wonder if French Husband would have gained confidence in my presence, or fear?
French Husband followed trained procedures without barely blinking an eye.
French Husband said, he doesn't know why the plane's engine failed, or why it started up after a few tries.
While he talked I felt something inside of me glad that I am drawn to having my feet planted on the ground even if that means my passion has me collecting things that don't amount to anything except simply pleasurable beauty and religous symbolism.
I told him, "My hobby is at least safer."
In which that guy of mine pointed to my wrist, and somewhere I heard God laughing. I had to laugh too.
Small wonders can be found at the brocante and up above in a flying machine.
Following ones passion is about discovery. Oh the beautiful challenge of living without knowing what tomorrow will bring, but being aware that it will bring something.
On another note… a group of friends and I are having a Brocante Sale on October 14th. If you are by Aix en Provence and would like to come, send me an email and I will send you the details.
Leave a Reply