Teatime Tale #11 - The Legend of the Shamrock Teacup

 The Legend of the Shamrock Teacup

           Once upon a time, in the beautiful Irish countryside, there lived a handsome leprechaun named Liam. He was constantly leading friends into mischief, but he was a well-loved leprechaun nonetheless.

            One year as St. Patrick’s Day approached, Liam rounded up some pals and said he wanted to celebrate the holiday out of the country for a change.

            “Where?” said his friend Loughlin.

            “Why?” said his friend Leary.

            “My friends, we’re going to England to seek an adventure,” Liam replied.

            “England?” said Leary. “They probably don’t even know how to celebrate the day over there.”

            “They most certainly do!” said Liam. “Just pack your bags and meet me at the airport in Dublin in an hour.”

            Leprechauns can time travel and do not, in fact, have to fly, but Liam and his friends could make themselves invisible and liked to hitchhike in a plane’s cargo hold, so that was how they traveled to England.

            Upon their arrival at Heathrow, Liam boarded a shuttle and told his friends to follow him.

            “Where are we going now?” asked Loughlin, who was always up for a good time.

            “I still don’t see why we have to make this bloody trip,” said Leary, his disposition as sunny as always.

            “You’ll see,” said Liam.

            Soon, they left the hustle and bustle of London behind, and the landscape turned to rolling hillsides and farmland. They approached a sign reading “Stoke-on-Trent” and Liam pointed, announcing, “That’s where we’re going, my friends!”

            “Oh boy!” said Loughlin.

            “Whatever for?” said Leary.

            “You’ll see,” said Liam.

            The leprechauns checked into their room at the Royal Crown Inn and Pub in Stoke-on-Trent. Leprechaun check-in is quite a different matter than check-in for humans. For the leprechaun, it simply means running up and down the halls of the inn, spying out the very best room, and waiting until the occupants leave. The leprechauns then stretch themselves out flatter than a crumpet and slide under the door.

            “Friends,” Liam said once they had settled in, “I can now tell you why we’re here. We’re going to tour the potteries!”

            “Hurray!” said Loughlin.

            “Potteries? Why would we want to go there?” grumbled Leary.

            “You’ll see,” said Liam.

            Some American tourists staying at the inn had arranged to visit the potteries, too. When Liam overheard the ladies talking, he and his friends decided to hop in the backseat of their SUV, in the tiny spots next to the pocketbooks, and hitch a ride.

            Once they arrived at the potteries, Liam was first to leap out of the car. “Follow me!” he said.

            Inside the first factory they toured, Liam and his friends peered around, wide-eyed, at the vast array of kilns and the teawares that had been produced there. Liam was quite the fan of Irish Breakfast tea and appreciated a good teacup.

            “So this is where it all begins!” said Loughlin, impressed.

            “Humph,” said Leary.

            “This way,” said Liam. “But first, I have to ask you fellows a question. St. Patrick’s Day is coming up, and I have a rather incredible idea for making sure this is one we’ll never forget. Are you in?”

            “I’m in,” said Loughlin.

            “What choice do I have?” said Leary.

            “Good,” said Liam. “Come with me.”

            They entered a room where workers applied transfers to new china wares. Floral designs were the favorites in that room. Liam overheard a woman named Cathleen say they were busying filling the orders of Americans who wanted festive new teawares in time for St. Patrick’s Day.

            “I’ve always loved St. Patrick,” Cathleen told her coworker Gail. “You know what great symbol is associated with St. Patrick, don’t you?”

            “Can’t say as I do,” said Gail, looking at her watch. She was ticking off the minutes until the next smoke break.

            “It’s a wonderful bit of symbolism,” said Cathleen. “When St. Patrick was helping spread Christianity all over Ireland, it occurred to him he had the perfect symbol for the trinity right there in his own backyard.”

            “And what might that have been?” said the coworker, slightly interested.

            “Why, the shamrock, of course!” said Cathleen. “Just as the clover is made up of three leaves, so the Holy Trinity consists of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, three in one. Quite lovely.”

            “How ’bout that,” said Gail, who thought that religious folk could be a pain in the bum sometimes.

            “It’s a pity we’ve run out of shamrocks this year,” Cathleen said. “The manager says we could have all gotten a nice bonus if we just had a few more shamrock teacups to send to America.”

            Just then, Liam told his friends of his extraordinary plan.

            “Here’s the deal. You know how we flattened ourselves out a few hours ago and snuck under the door of our room at the inn?”

            The friends nodded.

            “I say, let’s flatten ourselves out into small shamrock shapes, quietly attach ourselves to some teacups, and we’ll get a free trip to America! We’ll have to stick close to the teacups each March, but the other eleven months we’ll be free to explore and have a grand time. Why, we can even go back home to Ireland most of the year if we like!”

            “What a great plan!” said Loughlin.

            “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” said Leary. “But don’t leave me behind!”

            And so it was that while the pottery workers went on break one day, Liam and his friends disguised themselves as shamrocks and climbed onto a teacup, which a darling woman named Cathleen was absolutely delighted to find and ship off to the States.

            In America today, very early on the morning of every March 17, Liam and his friends depart their teacup home and run to their nearest Mass to pray and remember St. Patrick, dashing back well before the homeowner rises.

            That’s just an old legend, though, for leprechauns can’t turn themselves into shamrocks. Can they?

            

Sampling the new Assam 1860 Tea

It's always fun to get to "meet" a new tea vendor when one offers to send me samples. I haven't tried any Assam tea in a while, so I was intrigued to hear about this new company in India, Assam 1860, which sells tea "fresh from our family's 150-year-old tea gardens in the Moran Circle of Assam."

My samples of this single-estate tea arrived this week, and they included both a large bag of the loose tea and some tea bags as well. Naturally, I opted to try the loose tea first!

When I opened the bag and saw the small bits of tea, I realized this was CTC tea, with CTC being a method of processing black tea that Cuts, Tears and Curls the tea leaves. Assam tea is known for its brisk, malty flavor, and this one did not disappoint! I steeped mine for three minutes, and it was just the level of briskness I like, and with very little astringency. It made a nice, robust cup of tea that was perfect for my afternoon teatime. Are you a fan of Assam tea? If so, Assam 1860 included enough tea bags that I can share some with a friend! If you'd like to try this tea, just leave an "Enter me" to this post between now and 7 a.m. EST on Monday, March 16, and you'll be entered. U.S. and Canada only, please. Meanwhile, if you'd like to go ahead and learn about Assam 1860 right now, just click here.

Feeling Chintzy!

It's been a rainy, gray week here in Newnan, and I saw a photo of a chintz teacup on Tea Time magazine's Facebook page one day and it made me smile. The pretty, cheerful florals of chintz china are just the thing to perk up a gray day.

Out of curiosity, I decided to take a look back on my blog and see how many times I've written about chintz over the years, and it turns out, quite a few! These are just a few of the photos I've shared, and while it would still be nice to see a little sunshine, I must say that it brightened the day just to look at all the chintz patterns.

My favorite chintz is Royal Winton's Welbeck chintz, the yellow pattern in the lower right corner, but I also like the Royal Winton Summertime chintz in the lower left corner. Do you have a favorite chintz pattern?

Teavivre's Superfine Keemun Mao Feng Black Tea

Earlier this year I enjoyed a puerh tea tasting courtesy of some samples I received from Teavivre, but I didn't realize until later that puerhs weren't the only teas in that package. The one I tried this week was their Superfine Keemun Mao Feng Black Tea. I remember exploring—and enjoying—keemuns when I first began to seriously study unflavored black teas. Keemuns are sometimes described as being the "Burgundy wine" of teas. The dry tea leaves had a strong fruity fragrance.

Steeped, the tea leaves developed a more vegetal scent, but still with a sweetness about it.

I steeped the tea in just under boiling water for 3 minutes, and the result was a deep copper, brisk but not astringent cup of tea with a slightly smoky taste. I detected an extra sweetness to this tea (definitely to be enjoyed as a no-sugar-added one), and it was absolutely perfect as a pick-me-up on the gray, overcast day I first enjoyed it. Are any of you Keemun tea fans? It seems that there's someone in my tea orbit who likes Keemun, but I can't remember who!

The shamrock notecards winner is ...

Kiffer! And since I have your address already, I will get these headed your way. Congrats!

Daphne's Diary brings a little loveliness — and teatime!

I haven't seen Daphne's Diary on the local newsstand in a few months, so I was happy to find a nice stack of this new issue at my local Barnes and Noble last week. This is by far the most charming magazine in print these days, and it's like finding a lovely surprise gift every time I come across a new one.

No doubt one reason I love this English version of the magazine, which is published in the Netherlands, is that every single issue has something about teatime in it, whether that's through crafts, recipes or just the teawares themselves. This time, the free sticker page inserted in the magazine has a teapot on it. Fun!

And while I don't decorate in the Shabby Chic style much anymore, I must say I never tire of looking at photos of this style of white furnishings and pink rose decor. So, so pretty.

Because this magazine is published in the Netherlands, it often includes products (especially styles of teaware) I've never seen before. Isn't this tea set pretty? It's just a photo from a page that includes a poem, but it caught my eye. This issue also shows a style of pottery teapot I've not seen before, and there's a punch-out Japanese lantern that has a teapot in the design as well. Have you come across Daphne's Diary yet? If so, what did you think?

A one-day March giveaway!

On Friday, I was looking for a greeting card at Walmart when I came across these great St. Patrick's Day cards with teacups on them! They had only two packages left, so I got both of them—one for me and one to give away to one of you! This last-minute idea for a March giveaway means I need to get these in the mail to the winner ASAP, so this giveaway will run until 7 a.m. EST tomorrow, March 10. (And hey, if they don't arrive in time, there's always next year!)

I think this design of shamrocks in a teacup is just adorable!

I'm going to be sending my cards out with a sample of Twinings Irish Breakfast tea, so I'll add some of these tea bags to the winner's packet so you can do the same if you choose. If you'd like to win the cards, just leave an "Enter me" comment to this post before 7 a.m. EST tomorrow and you'll be entered to win. And I suppose I should wish the luck of the Irish to ya!

Teatime Tale #10 - On Kindness and Carrots

On Kindness and Carrots

            You never forget your first love, and that applies to more than just romance. Decades have passed, yet I still remember when I first fell in love with teatime. And I can recall the taste of that tea room’s incredible soup as if I’d eaten it only yesterday.

            My friend Kimberly and I, students at the University of Arkansas, were back home in Bentonville that weekend for Kimberly’s birthday. My mother, eager to encourage anything ladylike, was treating the two of us to tea as Kimberly’s birthday gift. She’d made reservations at the Victorian Village Tea Room in Eureka Springs, a beautiful Ozark Mountain town beloved by tourists and locals alike. Kimberly and I adored everything Victorian, and I was excited to be going to tea.

            That Saturday was sunny, and I remember that Whitney Houston’s upbeat “I Wanna Dance With Somebody” was blaring from my Ford Tempo’s cassette tape player when I picked up Kimberly. I wore my new Laura Ashley cabbage rose dress with a Battenburg lace collar. Kimberly wore an ivory lace blouse and a ruffled pink skirt with a matching eel skin belt. I also remember that she’d gotten a gift of some new gold beads for her Add-A-Bead necklace, which was almost full. Next to hers, mine looked like a Sad-A-Bead necklace.

            On the way to Eureka Springs, we discussed what teatime might be like. Mom had said to be sure and keep my pinkie extended as I sipped tea, as that was the proper thing to do—and I had a hard time being proper. I loved the Victorian period, but I was also a tomboy who played basketball and tennis. Kimberly was the girly one, not me.

            Upon arriving at the tea room, we saw they had written our names on a blackboard out front. “Welcome, Kimberly and Jennifer. Happy Birthday, Kimberly!”

            A friendly brunette greeted us and said we’d be dining in the Victorian Parlor. We were promptly ushered into a high-ceilinged room and seated on a mahogany sofa upholstered in burgundy velvet. A marble-topped table sat before us, already set with floral teacups and napkins.

            The waitress gave us a list of five teas to select from. Kimberly chose Earl Grey, and I chose English Afternoon Tea because I liked anything English. After our tea was poured, I was surprised to find how much I enjoyed hot tea. Growing up in the South, I drank lots of iced tea but never hot tea. At school, I lived on Diet Coke.

            A mother and daughter came into the parlor and were seated at a small table in the corner. The little girl whispered to her mother and pointed at Kimberly. I assumed she was admiring Kimberly’s gorgeous hair. She’d just gotten a new spiral perm, and her amazing golden halo ensured she never lacked for a boyfriend—or admirers in general. I, however, still sported the short hair and feathery bangs I’d gotten in my well-intended if unsuccessful attempt to look like Princess Di.

            The waitress said our tea tray was almost ready, and while we waited she offered us a cup of their famous Carrot Soup, served in another elegant teacup. Carrot Soup didn’t sound so great to me, but Kimberly and I had manners enough to take a cup and give it a try.

            “You go first,” I said.

            She did. “Oh, wow!”

            “Wow-good or wow-bad?”

            “Take a bite.”

            I spooned past some froufrou “roses” made of carrot curls and tasted the richest, creamiest, most velvety goodness I had ever eaten.

            “This can’t be carrots,” I said. “Tastes way too good.” I normally lived off Pringles potato chips, Snickers bars, and Taco Bell burritos, so if I liked the stuff, that was saying something. I asked the waitress what was in the soup besides carrots. She smiled politely and said it was a secret family recipe, but she’d be glad to have the owner send some soup home with us. Thinking of my empty dorm room refrigerator, I accepted the offer.

            As we attacked the tea tray, Kimberly and I giggled like schoolgirls and spoke with fake British accents. There we were, college students, dining like the Queen with this fancy metal stand that had three different plates of food on it. There were tea sandwiches, scones, tiny desserts—even chocolate-covered strawberries.

            Kimberly loved sweets and went straight for the top plate, quickly devouring her strawberry, brownie bite, lemon square, and a fruit tart thingie. I ate five sandwiches, which were so good, and had a scone and some sweets as well.

            When we finished, the waitress told us we were welcome to look around the rest of the tea room, and we did. The rooms were so elegant with their ruffled curtains and artwork of Victorian ladies. Kimberly said her mom, an antiques dealer, would love their decor.

            When it was time to leave and I asked about leaving the tip, the waitress told us that, too, had been taken care of in advance by my mom—which didn’t surprise me. What did surprise me was that the tea room owner had heard how much we enjoyed her Carrot Soup and brought us a white plastic bag containing two huge Styrofoam containers of it, lids on top and tightly wrapped.

            Kimberly suggested I hang on to the soup, and after we both got back to campus Sunday night, she’d come to my room and we’d eat.

            When Sunday night rolled around, Kimberly came over and, when we got hungry, pulled the crinkled bag out of my mini fridge.

            She opened the bag, removed the containers, and with a puzzled look, pulled out a white index card.

            “What’s that?” I said.

            “It’s the recipe for this Carrot Soup!”

            I remember that act of kindness to two college girls to this day. And when I say I can still remember that soup as though I ate it yesterday, that’s because … I did.

"Jesus, Me & Afternoon Tea" by D.L. Stalnaker

A friend sent me a link to a terrific Kindle freebie, and since the Kindle version of the book was still free as of yesterday, I had to share about it here! "Jesus, Me and Afternoon Tea" by D.L. Stalnaker is a combination devotional and afternoon tea cookbook, a combination I find quite lovely.

The book begins with a brief history of tea, followed by weekly devotionals with recipes interspersed throughout. I've already read a few of the 52 weeks of devotionals to get up to speed for the year, and I do enjoy the idea of pausing to have a quiet inspirational moment that also has a tea theme to it.

The recipes include sweets, scones, tea sandwiches, beverages and more, and I think many of you will enjoy reading this book as much as I am!

South of France Green Tea Soap

It's been ages since I've come across any bath and body products with tea in them, so I was happy to spot this $3.98 bar of soap at the Ingle's grocery store in Bremen over the weekend.

For once, I remembered to check to see if the product did indeed contain camellia sinensis, and this one did!

I love these big fat bars of French milled soap. In fact, one of my teenage nieces is on a Paris kick, so I thought about getting her one to go in her bag of birthday goodies this year. I wondered where in the South of France this soap was made, so I turned it over to see …

Greensboro, North Carolina! Ha! Turns out that only the original recipe is from France, but the soap smells great and lathers well, so I'm pleased. It's such a huge bar, I think I'll be enjoying it for many weeks to come.

A Nikko Christmastime Serving Dish

My first vintage Christmas find of the year! I was hitting some thrift stores in Rome, Ga. over the weekend when I spotted this piece at Goodwill for just 99 cents. Not bad, and it will blend with my Spode Christmas Tree dishes quite well.

This is the "Christmastime" pattern from Nikko. When I did a little online surfing, I found that this pattern of Japanese ironstone was introduced in 1979. (So I call it "vintage" with a bit of a grin! So am I, by that standard.)

I thought this looked old until I looked on back and saw that it was microwave safe. I'm surprised something from the microwave era shows crazing — or is it crackling? I have yet to see a satisfactory explanation of the difference. One definition of crazing in the dictionary is tiny cracks, and crackling is said to be small cracks as well. I can't feel the cracks, however, so I felt this dish will be fine no more often than I will use it. Have any of you found a good thrift store bargain lately?

Let's discuss Downton, shall we?

SPOILER ALERT! PLEASE SKIP THIS BLOG POST IF YOU HAVEN'T YET SEEN THE LAST EPISODE OF SEASON 5!

Look what came in the mail last night! What great timing, because I am absolutely going through "Downton Abbey" withdrawal now that the show has ended for another year. My husband gave me the latest book for Christmas, so I am going to collect all the earlier ones, too, and will no doubt start watching all five seasons of the show all over again. When the show concluded Sunday night, I realized I needed a debriefing session with similarly DA-obsessed friends. So, let's have at it!

• What a fine episode that was! So much drama, so many intriguing plots … and I had three favorite scenes: 1) Carson proposing to Mrs. Hughes (of course!) 2) That beautiful shot of Violet and Isobel having tea (!) in the garden with some lovely flowers in the foreground and 3) Robert telling Edith he knows about Marigold and that all is well. Now I'm not much for crying over TV shows, but items #1 and #3 made me cry!

• Thomas. I must say, my hatred for him has softened a bit. He's still a conniver, but he seems to be using his powers for good more often these days. That trick he pulled on Lord Sinderby was just delicious. And didn't you love it when Lord Sinderby's butler was spilling all to ole Thomas? We just knew this wasn't going to end well for the butler!

• Rose, I must confess, got on my nerves when I first met her. (I say that as if we're close personal friends. You know what I mean.) But now, Rose seems to have matured and is wise beyond her years. I look forward to seeing what's in store for her next season. (I also want to go see actress Lily James in her new Cinderella movie. Is it crazy for a 50-year-old to want to go see Cinderella? Hoping one of my nieces will let me tag along.)

• Mary. Now I've always defended Lady Mary, but I found her a bit too something-something (as a friend of mine likes to say) this season. She's been awfully unkind to poor Edith, and I'm bothered that Mary seems to treat George as a sweet little pet. Is that just me? Have any of you found yourself bristling at Mary?

• Tom. Oh. My. Goodness. I love Tom. Don't you love sweet Tom? He just lights up every scene he's in, and I think he's turned out to be the classiest of the whole lot. I can see why he wants to go to Boston, but oh, I shall miss that man.

• Anna and Bates. Enough already. Julian Fellowes, with all due respect, sir, if Season Six is indeed to be the final season, would you kindly let this couple have five minutes of peace without an officer of the law showing up? They deserve their happily-ever-after, and soon.

• Violet and Isobel. What a delightful pair of chums they have turned out to be! And who knew Violet had a lurid past? Fun, fun, fun! I was very sorry, though, that Lord Merton's ill-bred sons got in the way of a Crawley-Merton union, but my gut feeling is that Lord Merton didn't deserve her anyway.

So here's what I'd like next season: I want to know what happens to Tom and if he actually makes it across the pond. I'd love it if Edith would marry a handsome man who's wild about both her and Marigold. (That new gentleman she met on Sunday night's show will do just fine.) If Mary plays nice, I'm okay with her marrying again. I'd like at least a brief glimpse of Carson and Mrs. Hughes's wedding, and I'd like to see Daisy in school somewhere. Giving Mrs. Patmore a suitor would be nice, too. I most assuredly do NOT want anyone to die. I particularly do not wish to see Violet die. Ever.

Okay, I've rambled on quite enough. What were your thoughts on the season, and what are you hoping to see in the next one?

Tracy Stern Tea & Co.'s No. 1 Royal Poinciana Iced Tea

Last week, I mentioned that I had ordered something after seeing it in the April issue of Romantic Homes magazine. What I ordered was this No. 1 Royal Poinciana Iced Tea from Tracy Stern Tea & Co., which contains organic rooibos with hibiscus and lemon grass. I must admit I bought this tea purely because of the pretty salmon pink tin! I would not typically pay $20 (plus $4.49 shipping) for six two-quart teabags, but I had a few Amazon gift cards and decided this would be a fun splurge. Still, I was skeptical of the actual tea, because the more expensive iced tea blends I've bought have not been the tastiest.

Inside the tin was a gold foil package containing the tea bags.

When I removed a tea bag to make a sample pitcher of tea, I noticed it was larger than some of the other two-quart tea bags I have tried. Here's the large tea bag next to a regular size Republic of Tea tea bag for a comparison.

The instructions said to add two cups of boiling water, steep the tea bag for 12 minutes, then add 6 cups of cold water, remove the tea bag and squeeze it out.

So, how did the tea taste? Well, let's just say that's a might pretty tea tin, isn't it? Which is to say, the tea was pretty wimpy tasting. I detected a faint hint of lemon grass flavor, but this tea reminded me much more of the fruit-flavored water I sometimes drink in the summertime. Next time I make this tea I will add less water and see how that works, but meanwhile I really am happy to have such a pretty tin!

Teatime Tale #9 - The Silverdale Dishes

The Silverdale Dishes

            Mornings start early up here in the north Georgia mountains. I usually get up when Lloyd does, around five or five thirty most days. I like to have my first cup of tea while it’s still dark outside and quiet inside.

            My husband is a hard worker and a good provider for our family. Things are rough for so many people these days, I can’t complain. We made it through 1934, and I just know the good Lord is going to see us through 1935, too.

            This morning, Lloyd and I are going into town to pick up our spring seed order at Wilson’s Feed and Seed. Sure hope we have a good crop this spring and summer. I plan to can even more than I did last year. With three big, strapping boys, I can hardly cook enough to keep them full these days. The two girls just pick at their food, but that’s a girl for you. The boys, though, I’ll swanee, I can hardly cook it fast enough for them.

            Yesterday at breakfast, I thought Zeb and Eddie and Richard were going to fight over that last biscuit. Those three worry me. They love to read about the war and all the things that happened in Europe not so long ago. Zeb says he’d love to go overseas and fight for this country. I’m just glad my boys are too young to be involved in anything like that. I hope there won’t ever be another war.

            While Lloyd and I are gone to town, Myrtle and Louise will give a good cleaning to the kitchen. The cabinets smell like bacon grease, and I don’t like that one bit. Besides, we ought to tidy up some since I’m about to bring some nice new dishes into this house.

            Lloyd and I have never been what you might call fancy people. We’re just plain folks. But I do like for things to look nice. I like for my pound cakes to turn out pretty, and I like my biscuits to be nice and uniform, cut out perfectly round with the biscuit cutter. Thanks to Lloyd—and the chickens, of course—my kitchen’s about to look even nicer, because I’m headed to pick up the prettiest set of blue dishes I’ve ever laid eyes on.

           

            Wilson’s Feed and Seed is next to Alley Brothers Dry Goods, and on trips to town I always go in Alley’s to pick up provisions. Sometimes it’s a bag of flour, sometimes it’s buttons, or maybe it’s some thread if I’ve been patching up the boys’ jeans. One day, I was in Alley’s when a salesman stopped by with these beautiful blue dishes. The pattern was called “Silverdale,” and it was made by a company called Swinnertons way over in London, England. “Silverdale” is such a pretty name.

            I told that salesman I had no need for pretty dishes like that here on the farm. Why, the boys would bang them up in no time, and there I’d be, with a bunch of chipped and cracked dishes on my hands. At least, that’s what I told Lloyd when we left the store that day.

            When we got home, Lloyd said, “Helen, you’ve been talking ’bout them dishes all morning. You liked ’em, didn’t ya?” I hadn’t even realized I’d been going on about them. Goodness knows I didn’t want Lloyd thinking I was hankering for a set of dishes, of all crazy things. Times are hard enough without us wasting hard-earned money on anything that isn’t a necessity.

            “No, Lloyd. They were pretty is all. But I have no need for such as that.” I remember that Lloyd just nodded. And that, I thought, was that.

            The next time Lloyd went into town, he came back with a sales ticket from Alley Brothers Dry Goods. “Here,” he said, handing me the ticket.

            “What’s this?”

            “I just paid down on those Silverdale dishes for you. I want you to take that egg money you always save for a rainy day and use it for those dishes. Our money situation’s improved some, and I don’t see why my wife can’t have a nice set of dishes.”

            I nearly fell over dead. I wanted to ask him who he was and what he’d done with Lloyd. Instead, I just said, “Why, thank you, Lloyd.”

            That was six months ago. Little by little, I’ve been watching that egg money grow. Neighbors who don’t have chickens have bought my eggs for years, and I’ve saved a tidy little sum thanks to those eggs. Now, every time those chickens lay an egg, I could just about kiss ’em, just thinking about how pretty those new dishes will look in my kitchen.

            The boys, by the way, won’t be using them. Lloyd and I agree on that. I’ll use them when my sisters stop by for a cup of tea or coffee, or when the preacher’s wife comes in for a visit. I might even sew up some napkins and get the girls to embroider daisies on them.

            The old grandfather clock in the corner shows that it’s nearly nine o’clock now, and I can’t believe I’m soon going to be drinking my morning cup of tea out of a brand new cup that came all the way across the ocean from London, England. I’ve tried not to act too excited about it, even though it’s not every day something so nice comes into this house.

            “Helen, you ready to head into town in a bit?” Lloyd calls from the porch. He’s been giving the boys their chores for the day.

            I wipe down the kitchen counter and set my old, stained ironstone cup upside down on the draining rack.

            “Yes, Lloyd, I’m ready,” I say.

            After drying my hands on the dish towel, I untie my apron, gather my pocketbook, and reach for my old blue hat. It’s time to bring my new dishes home.