Oh it’s been too many years to mention now. Hunting for that perfect piece of kitchen furniture to hold all the plates and other shish. So “Le reve impossible”, inside four shelves with plates at the top and trugs on the lower shelves with tools, paint brushes, sellotape and scissors, together with all those tiny metal clips, nails and springs that come from who knows where. Outside, two doors and one or two drawers at the bottom, perhaps. Colour, “French Grey” what else!!!!! On top, a demijohn or two.
I’ve scoured the brocantes but still haven’t found that perfect armoire. Also brocantes can be very expensive.
I’ve met people in their local village and then followed them back to their homes to view armoires in barns.
I’m always looking at LeBoncoin. And tend to find the ideal one just as we are heading back to Blighty.
I’ve been called a time waster (in French) because when I’ve travelled miles to see one and oohed and arhed over it, I’ve come home and ultimately changed my mind.
I’ve had several telephone conversations in French that have completely exasperated armoire owners who’ve then sold to someone who’s clearly able to understand what the hell they’re saying. Why wouldn’t you?
I’ve walked through the world of Maison du Monde on many an occasion and seen just what I’m after. But in the cold light of day, the quality’s just not there.
I’m not on Facebook, but have even resorted to pleading with hubby to leave comments and send direct messages in search of that elusive perfect piece of kitchen storage.
And still I’m armoireless.
And so I lament
Le rêve impossible
To dream the impossible dream
To paint the unpaintable armoire
To bear with unbearable sorrow
When gazumped from afar
To gaze into Maison du Monde
To search from brocante to brocante
To try when your arms are too weary
To search one more time through Leboncoin
This is my quest
To follow that star
No matter how hopeless
No matter how far
To fight for the right to spend cash
And be willing to march for that heavenly cause
To reach the unreachable armoire