Too much work last week had my mind fried. words. words. words. Whenever that happens, I wait till hubby gets home (I will affectionately refer to him as the Russian, though sadly he is not), grab my purse and head out to our local brocante. This is where I glean!

Look what I found upon my last getaway! A set of silver spoons from another lifetime. They were literally black, fitted into a turquoise-lined box, when I picked them up. And the Russian looked doubtful when I walked in the door, fully regenerated and beaming. That night I placed them in a mug in the center of the table, and waited to see what I would see. Ah, the delight of this sweet family that never fails to oooh and aaaah over my recent finds...