A very short post becausethis week, Wednesday in fact, I leave to go shopping. And not just a liitle shopping..... we're talking major container size shopping!
Can you say 5 weeks of non stop shopping????
It's Belgium first. With 4 jam packed days of my favorite brocantes and secret treasured filled shops, I'll be racing from one end of this beloved country to the other. Brussels was home to me for 4 years and I can not wait to be back! By the time I leave here, I'll have been around the "Ring" so many times, I'll be more dizzy or is that ditzy than ever!
And then... its off to France. Board the train for Avignon and a week at the gorgeous La Madone in Apt.
Brocantes and more brocantes await! Then there's all the tucked away, can not wait to see what they have,
shops and boutiques and puces! Did I mention that I don't rent cars? Utility vans and very large trucks are the only way to go.
From there I'll move a little further south for THREE WHOLE WEEKS!
I hope that you'll come along with me. I'll post about my adventures, and shopping for antiques always entails adventures. I'll also post my "finds" which you can find on my web site, http://www.sidedoorantiques.com/. Now I have to pack. I HAVE to shop. I HAVE to fill a container. And.... I'm forced to do it in Belgium and France.
The popular country song follows that with line with ... cornbread and chicken. And, of course, being from the South, cornbread and chicken is a definite given. A really, really good given. But, there is so much more. For I am blessed to call the Lowcountry of South Carolina home.
In my backyard massive oaks spread their limbs, dressed with romantic draping spanish moss while Resurrection ferns climb their branches.........
An evening stroll to the end of the block......
Viewed from the end of the dock, a shrimp boat waits for morning and dolphins play......
Where voices raised in song spill out, beckon you to enter. Peace enters your soul ........
This place I call home is a magical, inspring, beautiful corner of the world. A place where you know your neighbors, shop at the local butcher and buy your seafood fresh from one of the last oyster shucking houses on the coast. Where the sandbar is the social center for all ages. Where we fight hard to protect our magnificent May River and all the bounty and beauty and livelihood she provides.
I am blessed. This is where I call home.......
The marshes and waterways I call home are so erringly similar to those of Lousiana, Mississippi and Alabama. Say a prayer. An on your knees prayer. May their blessed home be safe and may they find a solution to this horrific nighmare. God's peace be with them.
I was Texas bound. Twenty hours in a pick up truck pulling a trailer to set up an antique booth in a tent, in a pasture, regardless of weather or the inevidable traffic nightmare. I was bound for the Marburger Farm Antique Show which, of course, I consider to be the pinnacle of shows. Twice a year, magic desends upon the rolling hillside of Texas between Austin and Houston as some of the most exquisite and sought after antiques unveil themselves beneath massive white tents.
As this 20 hour trip requires a two day drive, I had to break the trip somewhere. I chose New Orleans. No side of the road stopover for me. Cafe au lait and beignets along with the allure of the antique ladden Magazine Street were calling my name.
Strolling Royal Street, buses waited to load a group of tourists. Coming from the doors of a hotel, music blared and through open doors a quartet of horns filled the air with the sounds of the city while the merry entourage followed, necks ladden with the symbolic gold, purple and green bead necklaces.
And in the Big Easy, cocktail hour was a given. A stop in Napoleons House fulfilled all the requirements of the perfect New Orleans atmosphere with a perfect history soaked bar, flaking plaster walls adorned with scores of pictures and its own sultry indoor courtyard.
NOLA for dinner. No matter how busy (and 20,000 Ace Hardware conventioneers had just arrived in the City) the staff excels at making each guest feel that they are a special patron.
In the life of an antique dealer, stops always beckon. Sometimes its just about choosing the right one.
I am a: Passionate hunter of French, Belgian and Italian antiques--I love the stories their history tells, real or imagined. Travel affectionado, any excuse for a trip and my bags are packed. Proprietor, Collector, Connoisseaur...... anxiously awaiting the next search.