'Dans son jus!'

I was absolutely stunned when a friend of mine sent me a link to an article a few months back about an apartment in Paris that had been abandoned by it's owner, Madame de Florian, since the German occupation during World War II.  As an antique dealer I dream of houses being left 'dans son jus', as the French so poetically say, but never before have I seen such a veritable time capsule with so many wonderful trucs.

Paradise for a lovers of interior design and antique trucs like me

We were lucky when we bought the last house we owned in France that the seller, Mme. Pasquet, failed to arrange to have all of the contents removed.  This house was a large house that dated from around the 17th century and was very much 'in it's juice' although sadly had suffered many "improvements" during the 1950's so it took a bit of work to uncover the true character of the place.  

The day of the completion of the sale the Notaire turned to dear old Mme. Pasquet and asked if the house was empty.  When she said that she hadn't managed to sort it out he was very reluctant to let the sale go through but with two wailing cats waiting in the car we quickly agreed to pay 500€ for the contents and with much relief all around we were the proud owners of a big old house with a big old leaky roof.

The house when we bought it (rather run down but I quite liked it like this)

After the renovation (we hope that although modernised it kept it's charm)

One of the most prized things that came with the house was a beautiful fruit wood armoire.  It was originally in one of the bedrooms and I'm sure if Mme. Pasquet's family had been able to get it out of the door and down the stairs we wouldn't have been so lucky.  As it was we only managed to get it downstairs by using the cherry picker from when they were redoing the roof to hoist it our of the bedroom. window.  It was worth all the trouble though as it really was a wonderful cupboard for keeping table linens, cutlery and crockery for our chambres d'hôtes business.

The beautiful armoire that we sold to the new owner of the house

Of course the armoire and other few bits of furniture were wonderful but once you agree to take all the contents of a house you are of course going to be faced with what I affectionately term as 'a pile of poop!'

Spike and his father, George, clearing the barn (guests beware!)

However, it was having moved from the big house to our present one that my career as a brocanteuse really began.  Not only did we have too much furniture, having downsized considerably, we also still had many remnants from Monsieur Pasquet's workshop knocking around the place and having agreed to clear the contents (I see Madame Pasquet's problem now) we had to take all these bits with us too.  

So it was with trepidation that we attended our first brocante loaded up with all the unwanted trucs from our previous home.  We have a large plastic crate filled with bits of old iron, old tools and other odds and sods that appear to have an irresistible draw to rustic country men of certain age.  This box has now been christened 'the old man box' and it never fails to pull these gentlemen in for a good old rummage!

I can only hope that the next house we buy will also be stuffed full of goodies and with any luck it will be very much 'dans son jus!'