Treasure Hunter, Born in the Womb

To say I am fascinated with treasure hunting is an understatement.  My sheer obsession started at an extremely early age, surely fed by middle-of-the-road U-turns upon spotting a lawn sale and weekly visits to the local thrift shops when my parents would pile me in the back of a silver VW Bug. While I still visit the ocassional thrift shop, my true love is discovering a roadside brocante or puces in Europe, especially in picturesque France.  My heart races, my palms sweat and my anxiety goes into overdrive....I can't get out of the car fast enough upon eyeing a few bistro chairs lined up along the gravel road (as evidenced on a recent trip outside Saint Tropez where I made the driver crazy by repeatedly yelling "do a u-ey"!).  And if I am lucky enough to be at an actual French flea market with many, many dealers artfully displaying their wares, well throw a winder in my back and set me loose!   Ignoring any blisters that may have formed on my feet, I don't want to chitchat, I don't want to wait in line to ask you questions,  I don't even want to check my blackberry going off every minute....I only want to immerse my eyes in the sea of treasures.

 "I'll take 10 of those, all of these and pray tell what is that sweet linen poking out of the rusted basket over there under that pile of books in the shadow of the truck tire behind the cat's bed, Monsier?"  In my circle it's a well-known fact that I discover the hidden gems which many would never spot or bother to seek out.  

The thrill isn't gone, baby, it's only getting better and better with each journey of discovery.  Glad you're along for the {written} ride....