Rick spied this tiled coffee table at the Recylcerie d'Elne where we get all our furniture. Not only do things cost a fraction of what they would new, we only buy what we love. There is also the feeling that we are helping people who convert old stuff into something beautiful.
The tiles remind me of the village next to where we used to go to the chalet in Valais. There was a wonderful restaurant. Often the salad would be from herbs gathered from the mountain, and of course their fondue was great.
The brook running by the restaurant had gurgling down to an art form. The air carried the aroma of pines not car fumes.
I love looking at the tiles. I've named the beaver Happy. There is a beaver damn near where we take Sherlock for walks in the Geneva country side, although we've never seen a real beaver at either location.
Than there's the cows. Cows are a real part of Swiss culture. In the first village I lived in Switzerland, they walked by my front door every morning and evening to visit the pasture. The village had a waterfall where Jean-Jacques Rousseau to go to think next to a cow pasture.
In reality, cows do not smell wonderful. They have known to soil themselves. But I've also heard stories about cow friendships and different personalities. Cowinalities?
Every time I look at the table, it evoked good memories of fresh air, good food, being with friends. So glad Rick spotted it.
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