A blue ribbon with hand painted flowers one of many in a trunk at the brocante.
What is it about lace, ribbons, bows… feminine fluff? Why do these trunks, and there are many, make me stop and look? Given that I can't stand to cut into old textiles, I usually go home and add the feminine fluff to a basket.
Oh, those darn heavy wooden trunks with big iron locks and old labels, tempting, and teasing haunting me with,
"O…P…E…N M..E! Look what I have hidden inside for you."
And I do.
Sucked right in everytime.
Maybe the main attraction is because I can put a ribbon anywhere. It isn't heavy and it does not take up any room.
French Husband shakes his head, "Then why do you like books? And chairs? And urns? And statues…
I put my hand over his mouth.
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