French provencal pottery, you see the piece with the green spot do you know why it is there?
When people come over to our home I am afraid if they ask me a question about anything in our house I will carry on for the next twenty hours or so, non stop. Passionate- yes, brocante fever from the bite- yes, love to share the history- yes, like to talk? I think yes.
What are antique French quilts called?
My friend Valerie brought a group of sixteen American women over to my home for a personal brocante that Ruth and I set up. So added to the mix that the construction of the house next door was wrapping up, renters were coming in, that our house was a dust bowl mess from two months of planning, collecting and me operating a gravy train as I cooked for Rene and his brother in law, setting up a brocante just added to the fun of a whirlwind summer.
What are these made of? And where do they come from?
Did you know it is a thing to make rings out of mother of pearl buttons?
Remember these?
This is the last box.
And these guys?
What were they used for?
Sold out in a blink of an eye.
Red letter monograms from the turn of the century.
There is a purpose and looking cute is not it.
Most people look and want to buy their initials. Though I prefer to make up words with the initials:
B.G. = Beautiful Gift
M.S. = Magical Surprise
C.P. = Creative Purpose
Stack of books that I have never un-tied.
To keep it intimate Ruth and I put out our brocante wares all over the house and garden.
Yann got into the fun of it, pouring Mimosas and chatting up the ladies.
Thank you Valerie, and thank you ladies for coming over, we enjoyed every minute.
That night our first guests to the house next door (gotta find a name for it) came over.
Rebecca and her husband John. Rebecca's sister is married to my cousin Brad.
Small world of cousins connects me to nearly the entire world.
John is a cook, so he invited us to dinner. Dinner in our newest guest house.
The photos are dark because it was late and that is how I roll. Such a lovely evening: Thanksgiving in October, without a turkey, that is how it felt.
Rebecca was bite by the brocante bug… yes she was. Plus she said she wanted to hide in the massive bathtub and never leave. I would have been fine with that!
So tell me when are you coming?
Three homes await you.
The Slow Travel Lifestyle with a Brocante Bite to add to the fun.
xoxox
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