When I first met my husband, he lived in England. We had a long distance relationship for 3 years…fueled by letters, a weekly(short) phone call and alternating week long visits. (no computer, no Skype, no cell phones then…)
When we finally decided to get engaged, I had flown over for a week. That week we went for an engagement ring, had our photograph taken and were just enjoying the euphoria that comes with the initial “being engaged” period…before all the nuts and bolts need to be ironed out and “reality” sets in.
I loved the whole concept of the English traditions of “High Tea”…it’s a romantic version for me of a wintry Sunday afternoon in a cosy warm room with the woodstove/fireplace/gas stove cheerfully burning, the small table set with covered teapot, toasted crumpets with butter and jam, Dundee cake and some sharp Cheddar cheese and apples. Warmth and laughter filling the air.
I bought a lovely teapot that week and brought it home carefully in my hand luggage. It was white with Spring blossoms…I envisioned it with a tea cosy and my whole high tea dream.
Well, fast forward 24 years later. I studied my teapot today…gathering dust on the top shelf of my kitchen. It has never been used. My husband and I used to have tea together in the afternoon…I was basically “trained” to have it ready for when he came home from work. When he stopped working, he began to make his own solitary tea…bought himself a “teapot for one” and would buy the teas and foods for his use only. He always sits by himself with his tea tray…warm days outside, cold days inside and many times with earphones so he won’t be disturbed.
I was glad in a way because it had all become a habit and joyless. I have a giant cheerful yellow mug with Minnie Mouse on it that my daughter bought for me(it holds 3 cups!) and I sit in the comfy chair that was my dear mother’s…with Zowie on the table next to me, Beast on my lap and Kitty laying on the top of the chair resting against my head. It’s a different type of joy/contentment than I’d envisioned all those years ago…but then, I’m not the person I was then. Older, maybe wiser, with much more to learn and experience.
In the meantime, I look at that forlorn teapot on the top shelf and remember past dreams…
til next time…Eva