It is a chilly 57 here this morning, and raining non-stop. I had to put on a robe this morning for the first time since last winter.
I spent yesterday beginning the task of cleaning out family heirlooms I am passing on to my nieces and cousin, and also others of the vintage items I have collected over the years. My son has no interest in them and Randy does not really know what is what. I am getting less inclined over the years to use them--our place is so small that we rarely eat at the table any more, so I don't use the dishes like I used to. We don't entertain here like we did in Texas either, so it just seemed like a good idea as I am trying to continue to simplify my life. One of my nieces already collects vintage dishes, plus is very keen on the family history and keepsakes. It seemed to make sense to let them enjoy them now rather than collect more of the endless dust that is part and parcel of this house.
I cleaned the teapot that my great-grandmother gave to my mother for Christmas the year before my sister was born. It is one of the items I do not plan to pass on just yet as I still make a pot of tea. Grandmother Timmons collected Lipton tea coupons and purchased the tea pot with them. That was 1947. The white collar under the lid is the infuser as leaf tea was the norm. I still make leaf tea unless I want the convenience of making just a single cup. I learned not long ago that the tea bag was originally a muslin bag to hold samples of tea. It was not a far leap before someone dunked it in the hot water bag and all.
There is just something about the ritual of making--and drinking--tea that I cherish. I have a small collection of tea pots, numerous single cups, and several sets of cups and saucers. On weekend days when there is more time, it is peaceful to select a pot and cup, measure out Chinese oolong, Indian darjeeling, Irish breakfast, or Indian assam--some of my favorites--and enter a different world.