A direct metro ride from our apartment in the 14th is home to the largest antique market in the world, St. Ouen, and if you take the same metro line and go the opposite way you arrive in Porte Vanves my favorite place to chiner (look for antiques in French.).
I think there must have been a spirit of "Let's make this chickadee a surprise cupcake", thirty years ago when French Husband bought this apartment with his mother. He was 21, I wasn't even in the picture. And yet it was as if someone somewhere planted a seed just for me.
The brocante bug is tickling me pink, or peeling gilt at least.
My Belle Mere and I went to St. Ouen today to look for a base for the bathroom sink. If you have been following my blog you know that a week or so ago the renovator cut it too short. Gulp.
A friend of mine at St. Ouen told me, "You know Corey, when you are looking for something you never find it. And once you aren't looking for it there it is."
Well she was right. My Belle Mere and I walked evey inch of the flea market. Scorching hot day it was too. My Belle Mere just keeping pushing me along. She is incredibly fit for her age. We didn't find a base for the sink. But we saw many other things that made us want to jump ship and start another project, or simply to take home. We were very good. We stayed focused. Bought nothing, but have a mental list of "wants" once this project is over.
The pink satin NIII armchair was as cute as could be.
A magazine cover it deserved.
I over heard a conversation between a French mother and her two little children:
The little girl five or so was crying. Between sobs she sighed, "There… isn't… anything… I … like… here…"
Her little brother about seven added, "There isn't even LEGOS!"
The mother smiled at me, a smile I knew too well. I use to tell Chelsea when we were going to the brocante, that we were going to feed the ducks, and have a picnic by the river. When she was about five she realized that feeding the ducks and having a picnic by the river meant a two hour car ride and eventually a picnic by the river to feed the ducks.
Chelsea doesn't dig the brocante. The bug is somewhere at the bottom of the river hiding from the ducks.
No Legos.
No ducks.
No luck today.
Tomorrow is another day. The little girl won't cry. Her brother will have legos tucked under his be, Chelsea who went home this weekend, is driving the truck back with French Husband filled with stuff for the apartment renovation.
And as the feeling of gratefulness surrounded me, as I came out of the metro to go to the hotel next to our apartment, I noticed numbers scrawled down the sidewalk. I asked the hotel manager what was going on?
Tomorrow there is a massive flea market on our very street!
Happy Cupcake this Chickadee, especially if I find a base for the sink!
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