Some weeks ago, we cleared out our old flat in Germany, in Kehl on the frontier with France at Strasbourg. We hung on to some of the furniture from that clearance. Today, we took delivery of it in Valencia, in Spain.
That means we feel as though we really have moved into this place. A flat we took as a shell now feels like a home. Indeed, in many ways a familiar home: we’ve been joined by my grandparents’ dinner table, their Welsh dresser (hand built by a joiner friend for their wedding in the 1920s), Danielle’s parents’ antique wardrobe (bought in Versailles before it moved to Eastern France and Germany before coming here), my parents’ desk (built of teak, no longer legal today, and which has now travelled from the US to England, France, Germany and finally to Spain – truly a cosmopolitan piece of furniture).
Our much-travelled desk in place |
Our two sons and our daughter-soon-to-be-in-law from Madrid came to help us and provide company, so the process was a great deal easier than the ghastly stress of the Kehl clearout. It’s also fun to have them around for the weekend. In fact, we’re due to go out with them soon for a meal – just as soon as we’ve finished our celebratory drink and I’ve finished this blog post.
The living room furnished and populated by son and soon-to-be daughter-in-law |
All but drained, to your good health |
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