samedi 25 février 2017
I am out truffling for a few days to see what I can find.
This morning was advertised as a brocante starting at 5am, so we spent last night in a hotel close to the venue as it was a few hours from home.
We had phoned the organiser to check the time and we rose quietly at 4.30 and crept out of our room into the icy morning.
Arriving at the venue there was not a car to be seen and the building was in darkness.
At 5.10 a sole figure appeared, turned on the lights and then opened the doors.
Then nothing...rien...nada..zilch. We remained in the car with the heater running and only at about 6ish did a few sellers start trickling in.
We decided it may be warmer inside so walked around aimlessly in the very empty hall as a few early sellers started to carry their boxes in.
Slowly they laid out their neatly ironed table covers and unpacked even slower. More buyers came through the doors and it was clear there were going to be more buyers than sellers.
One set of Countesses buttons with crowns in my pocket and then a long long wait.
A couple more stands slowly unravelled and a 19th century dog collar, some ticking, lace and a pair of divine trousseau sheets added to the haul.
Feeling slightly better about things I wandered over to an old lady unpacking jewellery at snail pace.
I stood along with another lady shoulder to shoulder in front of her table watching her treasures emerge from newspaper bundles. All very civilised and calm as we three ladies chatted away and as the seller unpacked, we politely looked at the wares allowing each other to reach " gently" for what caught our eye.
Suddenly a man pushed his way between myself and the other lady so roughly that he knocked the other lady aside. I am not such an easy pushover so adjusted my stance and stood rigid as he tried in vain to push me out of the way of the boxes being unpacked. I held my arms rigid and refused to be rocked as he grabbed and held the paper bundles even before the old lady had unravelled them.
He tried to grab for a jewellery casket already in my pile but I kept my arms still rigid and he couldn`t get his hands on it.
And then he made a fatal error. He had heard me talking to Mark in English and thought I did not speak French. As he tried again to push me aside again he muttered " Madam there is no need to push".
That was it, I let him have it and wiped the floor with him. A real verbal bashing in my best French and the place ( as it was so empty) fell silent. I remember harping on about him having no manners and if he has to be so cut throat he should have been a pirate!
He would not look me in the eye and simply ambled away. I glanced after him but there was no wooden leg or parrot on his shoulder.
There are enough treasures in France for everyone and if you can`t enjoy what is a wonderful trade then you should go do a 9 to five job.
Don`t mess with me when I have got up at 4 for a brocantless brocante!!
Needless to say this all caused much merriment with the friends we knew as the coffee stand finally opened and we finally got a hot drink.
Looking at the small haul I am really happy and even if there had been nothing to buy that`s the way it goes sometimes no need to get upset!!
A batch of gorgeous period jewellery, a hand written poetry book, a batch of boudoir prints, thimbles, buttons, lace, textiles and some scrumptious silk threads.
I am on the road for a few days now and have just received a text from a friend asking how the "mooching" is going!!
Mooching and truffling shall be resumed tomorrow!!
Have a great weekend mes belles
mercredi 22 février 2017
I found this adorable little mademoiselle`s silver hallmarked ring today tucked into it`s original velour box.
I thought how romantic would it be if a sailor had given it to his little girl as a love token before going off to sea.
And then I found this quote.............. .
.Cross is a symbol of faith, anchor is the symbol of hope and the heart is there for love/charity. Cross and heart are considered symbols of faith and love in the secular symbol interpretation as well, while the interpretation of anchor as a symbol of hope lies in the idea of a safe haven, safe harbour for the sailors in storm, and it is referenced in Epistle to the Hebrews in the New Testament: We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain.
Coming up in my Ebay store this week.....beautiful...unique and evocative
dimanche 19 février 2017
Often the blossoming of the snowdrop is a sign, that the winter is transforming to springtime. Therefore the snowdrop symbolises hope, the hope that this winter will finish too, that new warmth will enter our lives.
This is the carpet of snowdrops on the driveway to Le Chateau L`Isle Marie this morning.....
samedi 18 février 2017
Coming up for sale this Spring. Our adorable bijou 16th century cottage here the in Normandie countryside. 2 bedrooms and all renovated throughout. A large garden and superb views.
If you remember it`s the sweet place where our daughter Miss Frou Frou lived. Sad to let it go but new adventures are calling.
We will of course still be here at Le Petit Chateau !
UK pounds £77,000
US dollars $95,500
US dollars $95,500
samedi 11 février 2017
I know that I am guilty of not blogging regularly, but, by the time I have prepared my treasures, photographed them and shown them on my facebook page as I go I always seem to run out of time and I apologise for that.
But for my wonderful blog followers who do not facebook some very sad news.
My beloved "Digger" know by his formal name of Sir Digbert Fanshaw Brownshaw has finally left us at a grand age of 17. What a wonderful long life he had and he was the most loyal friend. I know that many of you have followed his tales and enjoyed his photographs.
At the age of three in 2003 he was abandoned in a town in the UK and was tied up as though someone had gone shopping. No one ever came back for him and he ended up at The Margaret Green Foundation Trust in Dorset.
We clicked at first sight and although I was unable to take him immediately as he was to be neutered I visited him daily. I was overjoyed to finally bring him home and since that day he has never left my side.
On the first afternoon he arrived Mark took him a quick walk through the town whilst I stayed at my desk. He slipped his lead and came back to me immediately. After just a few hours with us in a strange town how on earth could he remember where his new home was? Mark rushed home frantic to find him comfy on the sofa. That night he jumped on the bed and burrowed down by my feet under the duvet and I have had warm feet every night since then with him snoring by my toes!
He moved to France with us in 2005 and has lived a very cosseted life. Like many rescue dogs he was so grateful and has followed my every step.
Every garden party here at the chateau he did "meet and greet" and quite often sported a bow tie.
At Christmas he even performed in our party concert wearing little wings and stole the show tripping across the stage looking for somewhere to hide a bread roll he had found!
So at a grand old age of 17 years he has been laid to rest in the gardens here and this morning friends brought us a beautiful pink rose to plant there.
Sir Digbert Fanshaw Brownshaw 2000 - 2017.