Quelle contrast in the weather. Yesterday was warm enough for us to eat baguette and tomatoes (strewn with the last of the basil) in the garden. Today, we woke to sombre grey skies. Not a problem as we were off to Mirepoix to search for a dining table large enough to seat eight.
The square was filled with people selling plants, onion sets and fruit trees. The arcades were lined with brocanteurs.
Stalls displayed old kitchen utensils: molds for madeleines; moulis for making soups and purées; this box of heavy iron weight for measuring out meat, flour and vegetables.
As always, at these antiques sales, I was struck by the big snowy heaps of monogrammed linens. Many would have been embroidered as part of a trousseau, then stored away for decades, never used, when the 1914-1918 war destroyed so many of the young male population of France. Something to think about on this day of remembrance.