Photo Source: Best of the Yucatan
Mr. New Yorker was an antique dealer, who spent most his time jetting to Paris to buy beautiful old things for his New York Shop.
He loved it.
Though several years ago, he stopped and changed directions. Moved to Mexico, bought old homes and restored them into holiday rentals.
Photo Source: Best of the Yucatan
Amongst remolding and creating a life abroad Mr. New Yorker started reading my blog.
He missed France.
And saw that I had a brocante bug for old things.
It struck a cord, and he would peek into my blog without ever utter a word.
Sneaky guy!
Photo Source: Best of the Yucatan
When Chelsea went to do an internship in Mexico City, Mr. New Yorker broke his silence in a big way, he wrote and said,
"…. I have a place you can stay if you want to come to Yucatan."
Photo Source Ermita de Santa Isabel.
I can tell you this, I was faster than Speedy Gonzales in my response.
"Muchas gracias! ¡Sí! Voy a venir!" (I translated, "Thank you very much, I'm coming!" in Google traslate as I know two words in Spanish, "Burritos, por favor." French was hard enough, and I was kicked out of my French class in High School because I was "Nul". Furthermore my Parents, Grandparents, most of my Aunts and Uncles, and a few cousins Chris included, spoke Portuguese. I only learned words such as , "Fart, Melon Head, Onion Head, Drawer, Underwear, a What-cha-ma-call-it, and how to count to ten."
Photo Source Ermita de Santa Isabel.
But Mr. New Yorker doesn't mind, he is an American who loves antiques, loves France, lives in Mexico and has invited us to stay with him.
Photo Source Ermita de Santa Isabel.
I asked what I could bring him in return for his kindess. He replied, "I love old linen."
Right up my alley!
We are going to Mr. New Yorker's for Easter week!! And his Easter Basket is gonna be stuffed silly with old linens from France. Two suitcases full. French Husband and I are gonna be naked as our suitcases will be stuffed with linens… I guess we could make togas out of old sheets.
I might never come back.
Seriously.
What is there not to love?
It seems Mr. New Yorker finds antiques too.
Oh God if we go antiquing, eat burritos and listen to Salsa music….
Honestly, I am never go to stop blogging.
Even if I ran out of things to say.
Look at all the amazing people, places and things it has given to me.
Thank you forever and ever.
Mr New Yorker I cannot wait to met you, talk your ears off, and hug you tightly.
"Muchas gracias! ¡Sí! Voy a venir!"
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