Does anyone else find this slightly embarrassing? I mean, it’s OK at an anonymous Field Brocante, but to gaze lengthily at the personal belongings of neighbours and village acquaintances and then Reject them muttering ‘Heavens...since five this morning? Well ... bye then!’
Of course brocantes are always more fun if you have an objective... our general aim is Something that brings a chortle, but this year George’s additional goal was a French Monopoly set. Evidently not played much in this village...
We found several million jigsaw puzzles and plastic men-in-cars, though, and a Poker Kit that I was tempted by. (Not sure why, as Beat Thy Neighbour has remained the zenith of my card-playing skills). Unless Cunning was included in kit form too...
Suddenly I spied a red, Chinese-dragon-covered parasol – quirky, decorative and jolly handy in these final days of stifling sunshine. Acceptable price of two euros. And what a delight when the threatening drizzle became a drenching downpour, and my parasol turned out to be made not of paper but of… something… rainproof!
How proudly I twirled my beautiful brolly twixt stalls being frenziedly covered in plastic. How we Chortled when we got home and discovered the beautiful blue bit was actually Paint once lain in…
I scooped up a handful of French paperbacks by an author I didn't know but who sounded detectively interesting. You learn really useful phrases from such reading – ‘His body lay sprawled in the bath, brain splattered across the tiles…’, or ‘What! - That guy's still hanging around the neighbourhood?’ Doubled my party banter…
After a goodly time wandering, we were contemplating the bar or the refreshment table on the square when we walked into It! Hanging from the fence behind a stall of bottle tops and postcards was a black thing of finest netting. Topped by a black coolie hat from which dangled wisps of material, interlaced tassles and beads – all, blackest black - the Thing seemed to be shaped into a long tube – what could it be?
A lengthy Lobster Pot, I mooted boldly… or something you might get Changed Inside on a beach? (wearing the coolie hat); Mourning Dress, perhaps – elegantly concealing all expression of grief; how about an avant-garde Party Outfit?
None of these – it was of course a moustiquaire! (Not, as I kept calling it, a mousqetaire).
"It's a Mosquito Net for your bed,” the stallholder explained, “Or some people put them over an armchair or a settee - just attach the top to the ceiling”.
Fabulous! It’s bound to repel spiders too! Or why not, at the height of the insect season, just walk around inside it to the shops, for infallible personal protection? You can also pull it from one end to the other of your picnic table - fly-free feasts! How have we coped without this wonder!
The stallholder seemed surprised when we said we wanted it, but beamingly detached it from the fence with care, then found us a particularly lovely Hermès carrier bag to bear it home in.
Styles available are manifold -the two shown above can but offer a basic hint - but here, modelled by a glamorous person we found lurking, is The Most Wonderful!
16 comments:
Your rummaging came good in the end, Dolores. What a multi-purpose item is the moustiquaire. You could pretend to be a ghost and frighten unwelcome visitors.
Surprised to read that your haggling has managed to get rid of those unwanted 37 centimes. No wonder the world economy is in dire straits. What with folks passing on out of date currency.
Damn, are those out of date JW? All those tiny twiddly things look the same to me...
Ghost is good, thankee. Or I could wave my new passport photo at the Unwelcomes for REAL terror!
"Or I could wave my new passport photo at the Unwelcomes for REAL terror!"
Dolores, you are a star.
What-Ho Delores!
I too am a huge fan of vide greniers and have bought a wide seletion of goods from them over the years. I think of all these, my favourite is one of those guillotine baguette slicers usually found in restaurants. A snip at €2.
We shall shortly be attending one as sellers. I am breathless with anticipation.
JW please marry me. (before I take the netting off).
What-ho to you too Jon! I didn't realise there was an actual Implement for guillotining those pesky baguettes... D'you feed it through in the manner of a sausage-maker, OR is it on automatic rollers?
Please blog with photos on your Selling.
Dolores, with your charming sense of humour I would, at the risk of a black eye from George, marry you at the drop of a moustiquaire.
Meanwhile, on the subject of second-hand shops. A few years back I sold some of my old unwanted records (LP's and 45's) to a second hand dealer. As the weeks passed I would go back to the shop, incognito, to see how my masterpieces were faring. As you've probably guessed I bought back some of my old items at considerable cost compared to the price I sold them at. The morale of the story is never to get rid of anything.
You Sweetness, JW! (George is working out postage)
He too spent large chunks of his youth, and oldth, in second-hand record shops - favourites including Andy's Records (now defunct) in Bury St Edmunds, and Reckless Records in Soho. And they languish now bendily yet cherished in the cellar.
Oh, I have been so neglectful of late. I need to start getting up earlier than my usual 4 to 5 am to catch up with everyone.
Dolores, what a useful item your mousethingy is, and decorative, too! All you need now are several beehives and you have a new source of income.
P.S. I lust after your parasol.
Hi Expat, splendid to see you! And Brilliant idea about the bees!
Years ago we had a fearsome bee invasion into the house. If only we'd had the netting we could have both hidden under it, and collected honey while they slept...
I know Royal Mail are slow but this is ridiculous. All week I've been waiting on my parceled-up Dolores to be delivered.
These French mail order brides are a swizz. :-)
I suspect, JW, that George plumped for the SPECIAL PROMO Snail Mail...
(several lines about wrapping sprang to mind, but they'd just lower the tone)
I'm sorry I'm late!
We've got mossie nets in our spare bedrooms in Tenerife, but not in our main bedroom. So we leave the spare bedroom doors open during the day, to attract the mossies.
When we go up to bed, we shut the spare bedroom doors, and the mossies are trapped.
It's so easy to fool the mossies. I mean, if you were a mossie, you'd expect people to sleep in the bedrooms with mossie nets, wouldn't you?
We never mention our cunning ploy to the guests who come to stay with us...
:-)
You Cunning-ness, CI! So for outdoor feasts, you drape the netting over the trees? Or the cat...
No Dolores! We always leave a smelly sock on the terrace the day before an outdoor feast. See link below:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/earth/hi/earth_news/newsid_9398000/9398408.stm
:-)
My God, CI - I shall have nightmares for a week! (and as for poor old George...)
The article says they Want people to encourage these mosquito-eating, blood-lusting, smelly-sock-sniffing Horrors into their homes!
So WELL DONE, CI! - you're a symbol of courage and duty to us all!
Yes, and all the research was done just up the road at the University of Kent at Canterbury shortly after I'd donated some old socks to the University charity appeal!
It certainly makes one think, doesn't it? I mean, maybe all they've proved is that the spider is attracted by a very particular pair of smelly socks...
:-)
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