Bombe, My Ass!

Since some of the rooms are starting to take shape with the drywall installed, I am starting to think about furniture. We bought a bed a while back and can’t wait to sleep in it and get off this gite crap. Hope my back can wait that long!

Well, I remeasured the master bedroom this weekend to get the “AI Measurements” (After Insulation), as that takes about 8 cm off each interior wall! After adjusting my floor plan and laying in our super duper king size mattress, I started imagining our first night in the house. I thought about a chest that we had seen at a ‘repurposing’ store in Bergerac. It had been there for months and was a bit Rococo for my tastes, but Theo seemed to really like it, it was a marvelous piece of furniture, was in amazing shape for its age, and the price was right. It was a wood bombe chest with ornate metal detailing and an unscathed gray marble top. I, unfortunately, never took a photo.

Yesterday (still Easter holiday the Monday after), I told Theo that I had adjusted the floor plan and thought we should travel to Bergerac today to get that chest. He was thrilled. In the meantime, we had a discussion about bombe chests. He always thought they were Bombay chests and I was quick to point out (design snob that I sometimes imagine myself), that it is not an Indian thing at all, that it was not spelled that way, and Americans say it ‘wrong.’ It is actually bombe (pronounced like ‘bomba’ with a very soft ‘a’). Go figure. If nothing else, he said he learned something today!

So, off we go to Bergerac to kill two birds. I had purchased an antique copper shield from someone on a local Facebook group and needed to rendezvous to pay her and get my new treasure. Once we completed that transaction, we peeled off to the furniture store, excited to plunk down the money for our new chest (because we still needed to figure out transport details.) We marched through the old warehouse and it’s myriad of small rooms directly to the corner where it had waited for us. And to our horror, there was a ‘VENDU’ sign on it. Someone else had bought it. Damn it. We were disappointed, but had to laugh at ourselves, because before we left the house, I said, “Knowing my luck, I wait this long to make up my stupid mind about a piece, and watch, someone will have just bought it.” Oh my, a self-fulfilling phophecy??? So now the search goes on. There will be others.

This entry was posted in American Expats in France, Buying a House in France, Expat Blog, Renovating a Home in France, Southwest France American Expat Blog. Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Bombe, My Ass!

  1. Alida says:

    Theo and I have now both learned about bombe chests. Thanks for the education.

  2. Anne Sherwood says:

    Look forward to your adventures and tales… Your home is going to be a masterpiece I’m sure…even without the bombe chest!

    Spring is here in full force…lots of blooming trees, big white billowy clouds, and the beaches full with college and other kids enjoying their Easter breaks!

    We miss your cheerful selves A LOT! And Annie and Alfie too!

  3. Paul says:

    Hey, sounds like you’re making great progress despite that you weren’t able to score that chest. It must be really cool to find older authentic pieces to furnish with versus all shiny new mass produced stuff. I’d try that but without a good eye like yours my results would look like a bunch of old stuff that doesn’t work together.

    Happy Spring!

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