(First photos on my blog: Blue Armoire door in my bedroom.)
The first blog post I ever wrote was back in 2005. Since then I have posted everyday (except for one day this year when Typepad went down due to be hacked.) and have met many of you and have had the most amazing adventure in blogging.
(Great blogging friend Diogene that I met at his home in LA)
I wish I could write down the people I have met, but I am afraid I might leave someone out. Thank you for your encouragment, your emails, FB messages, calls, letters, invites, gifts, comments... so many of you I feel I know yet have never met. I often think if I stopped blogging I would lose touch with you and that is a hard thing to accept, so I will keep blogging.
(Mexico: The pleasure of being invited by blogging friend John. Then receiving a book from his Aunt! Blogging knows no bounds.)
Thank you!
(Traveling to the carnival in Venice and staying with my blogging friend Merisi.)
(The first photo I ever posted of Yann and I. It is incredible how my hair grew and turned blond over the nine years.)
(The banner of my blog for the last several years.)
My first post nine years ago... I did not own a camera, and at any rate had to learn how to use one fast, and how to download a photo.
__________________________
Flea markets in France
If there is anything that can make my heart beat like a passionate drum, it is to go to a antique market! Anytime, Anywhere. Even if it means driving five hours in a car, having to sleep in the back, then waking at 5 am, freezing cold and walk around with a flashlight in order to see what I can find-- I am there.
The pleasure it is to see someone unloading boxes from their van, seeing a snippet of something old calling my name, and then being the first one to ask the price for it. The icing on the cake is when the dealer doesn't know the value of the item and announces a price so cheap that I nearly pay for it without negotiating. That has happened on more then one occasion (Otherwise would I really drive five hours, sleep cramped in the back seat for nothing??)
Living in France has many rewards, antique markets happens to be one of my favorites. On any Sunday there are probably more fairs then you can shake a stick at (My mother would say.)
Often I wonder...
"How many Armoires can a country have for sale?"
My Mother came from California to visit me in France. She had heard of my many escapades and was excited to see what it was all about... as soon as she was at the flea market she said, "It is as if I have died, I am in Antique Heaven, my tongue is hanging out and I am tripping over it." Her first concern wasn't how to barter in French? But HOW was she going to get all that she wanted to buy back home?
One time at a fair there was a man unloading his wares. A crowd had quickly gathered around, people were shouting prices and flashing money, things were selling fast. It was one of those rare moments, where it seemed a chateau had fallen from the sky, landing at our feet. Unfortunately, I was standing behind the scene. The van was on my left side, tons of boxes and baskets loaded with wonderful objects were in front of me, followed by the dealer and the crowd. Suddenly, my eye caught hold of an eighteen century, five arm candlestick. I had never seen a candlestick like that before, and I knew it was something worth diving for... not a graceful dive but more like a jump-plop-flop dive. I grabbed the candlestick in a swoosh, held it up even though I was splattered on the ground. "Bonjour Monsieur," (That is the first rule at the French flea market, be polite before negotiating, even if you are on the ground begging.) "Combien pour ça?" How much for ...this I asked. Since he hadn't see my jump-plop-flop, because I had dove from behind him, and due to the fact that there were nearly 100 people in front of him, he didn't seem to take notice that I was in his stand or should I say in his wares. He waved his hand, as if to say, "Take it." and called out, "Fifteen Euros." Second rule, "No matter what price has been announced ask for less." I said, "How about five?" He gave a quick nod as to say done deal. The crowd gasped, was it because I had dove? Or dared to ask for a lower price for something that was worth a hundred times more?
This is (was) my first step to sharing my journey and adventures about antiquing in France. I am an American, my French Husband exported me here from California nearly 18 (nearly 28 years now) years ago, I arrived with two suitcases. Our very small apartment in Paris was empty, that is how the adventure began....
