Walking around in the flea market in the streets of Lempaut, a nearby small village, I found this uncommon and funny stuffed billygoat among books, pans, and unknown old tools. But I did not find any “treasure” to bring back this time.
Some years ago, I bought for next to nothing two coffee and cream jars with the sugar pot to be put together with the remaining cups from my grand mother's wedding porcelain set, with pink roses. She married my grand father in 1933, in the middle of the Art deco period.
My other grand mother had a similar set with blue roses.
You may ask what the use of this would be since we have Senseo type coffee machines now. It has none, except the most valuable to me: every time I see it, I remember my beloved granny, called… Rose.