My little French corner (no, not French Quarter) is in our front entry. Although the tea table is not French, it is a piece of furniture I’ve always loved. My Mother bought it for me when we were antiquing together about 35 years ago. I love the beaded wood and the original glass in the doors. (That glass does NOT need to be cleaned. That is glare from the lights in the room. That’s my story, and I’m stickin’ to it!)
When I spotted this cloche with all the Frenchiness on it, I had to order it.
Can you see my little Quimper pottery French people who populate this cloche?
Please pretend that this tarnished silverware and the vintage blue vase that holds it are French.
My brandy snifter, turned upside down to simulate a cloche, holds a little drawing of the Eiffel Tower.
I bought this framed tapestry at an estate sale several years ago.
The French book belonged to my Mother.
When my sweetheart and I were newlyweds, I found these pieces of needlepoint in a junk store. They must have been created by someone in the same personality group as me. She never made them into whatever they were supposed to become, so I framed them. I think the little boy on the rocking horse is holding a French flag, so I have decided they are French.
Between those “French” needlepoint pictures, I hung another framed tapestry I purchased at an estate sale. I apologize for all the glare in my photos. I didn’t realize I was posting such glare-producing photos – cloches and glass fronted pictures. What was I thinking?
