Conversion of A French Man

 
I moved to France with a dream in my pocket, setting up my house in the countryside with desires from the brocantes.



It was a lovely experience and I cherish every moment of it.

Then came the day that I met the man who was to become my husband.  "French" in every sense of the word, logic is his prevailing sensibility.



Not so very long ago, antique monogrammed sheets were scoffed at as a means of covering the bed.  A hand stitched bouti for warmth (let alone decor)? Preposterous.

My logical (ie French) husband knew the history and use of the majority of items that I came dragging in.  

He was just as certain that each and every one was infested with the 'puces' that give the markets their name.

Needless to say, my brocante passion was not well accepted by my French counterpart.



Fast forward to this weekend.

I returned home to find my husband napping......layered under a monogrammed linen sheet and faded, cream and pink bouti.  

Taking it all in, I couldn't help but laugh.



Who says change isn't possible?

All images via

linking with-wow us wednesday,

Happy Valentine's Day

 
In honor of all things sweet and lovely.....








....and if these aren't enough just click for more loveliness.

Here's hoping that you have a weekend filled with beauty and creativity.


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Simone

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