Gentle Reminder: Life is Short ~ Use the Good China!

Yesterday, I had a meeting with a friend. We chatted about this and that. She mentioned she had sold her family silver "because I never use it and it was just collecting dust."

I've really been pondering that. Not so much the selling the silver but the "saving things for good" aspect of the conversation. I can think of lots of reasons in this economy to sell things of value to eke out another day, another week or another month. That's not what I'm talking about here.

I was thinking about "saving things for good" while I was ironing napkins this weekend (I know, I know, crazy woman). I love cloth napkins. I never buy paper napkins. While they aren't terribly expensive, they seem like a profound waste of resources. Cloth napkins seem like a small luxury and are used for years over and over again. 

When I was getting things out to make interesting tableaux for "French Toast," I was reminded again of the importance of treating ourselves, treating our families and treating our friends. I mean, really, no one is getting out of here alive. What better place to spend your resources, fortune and attention on than those you love?

Today, especially, I was thinking of my friend Sally who is so worried about her daughter. She absolutely spends her resources, fortune and attention on her beloved daughter. There's a good lesson there.

I was thinking that treating those you love like they are special actually becomes a habit.

I love it when the boys come home and we work together to get a meal ready. When it's time to set the table, they go automatically to the buffet and the stack of ironed napkins. They know the ironed napkins are there for them to use ~ we're not saving them for some nebulous time and guest in the future.

Occasionally, as we're pulling out the freshly ironed napkins, someone will demur. Then we have to go into the whole damn pageant of "don't make me move my neck! Use the blasted napkin. We're not putting on the dog. We use these every day. (ehem) So . . . enjoy!"

Probably not such a good idea that people feel they have to take a napkin 'cuz they're sure their life is in danger. We may have to reevaluate our response. In the interim ~

A gentle reminder ~

Life is short ~ use the good china!

Excuse Me, Madame. Will You Come with Me, Please?

This is only funny because I didn't end up in jail.

So, in the late 80's, a friend of mine called me on a Sunday morning to say, "Round trip London from Seattle ~ $300. Let's go see the Phantom." It's wonderful when decisions are so easy. She, my sister and I bought tickets on Monday and traveled on Wednesday (Margaret Thatcher resigned on Thursday but, I don't think that had anything to do with our trip.)

We went without any lodging accommodations but, a friend said, "Don't worry. Tell the cabbie to take you to Russell Square and go from house to house until you find a B&B you like." And, so, we did. As we got into the cab, the driver said, "Russell Square, eh? You yanks really like it. It's cheap and cheery."

So, I have this romantic idea of travel. Pack light! I had my Ghurka Express No. 2 that I bought at Nordstrom for many, many hundreds less than it's selling for now. I packed a couple of black Danskin long sleeved scoop necked tops, a couple pair of black cotton cargo pants, black ballet flats, a pashmina shawl, some undies, mascara (hey, I grew up in the 60's. I believe it is impossible to wear too much mascara.) and, my Calvin Klein trenchcoat. Room to spare in my little Ghurka.

I'd never been to London before. My friend, Barb, said, "You must go to the silver vaults."

The first night we were there, we went immediately to buy tickets to the Phantom. Wow, should we go tonight? But, of course! That's why we're here, isn't it?

OK, OK, I admit it. I'm one of those people who is really affected by jetlag. I think I saw the Phantom. There was this little pole in exactly the center of my vision. Not very big, mind you, but, it did bisect the stage perfectly. What I do know is that my friend, Audrey, kept jabbing me in the ribs with her very bony elbow every time my head dipped an inch out of plumb.

A good time was had by all. We went to the theater nearly every night. We museumed, galleried, fished and chipped. And, silver vaulted.

Oh, The Silver Vaults! Be still my heart.

Three or four floors down in the basement of a building on Chancery Lane. It really is vaults. One right after the other of the most amazing antique shops filled with just about every kind of sterling silver, silverplate imaginable. Punch bowls large enough to bathe your six year old. Goblets. Plates. Chandeliers. Letter openers. Desk accessories. Service for 24 with every single possible implement. And, on and on. Wonderful. A feast for the eyes, but, oh, the prices. Too much for this cowgirl. So, I started thinking small. Very small. Butter knives. Certainly silverplate ~ sterling was out of the question. And, I did find the most darling butter knife with a pearl handle carved in a spiral. Sold. Then, I found a really well-priced fish knife and fork set. Oooh, not expensive and very pretty. Sold.

Finally, our wonderful trip was over and we headed to Heathrow and home. As we were standing in line, a lovely man tapped me on the arm and said, "Excuse me, madame. Will you come with me, please? Here, I'll take your bag." How nice, I thought. It was sort of like when the checker at QFC pulls you out of the slow line and you breeze through while everyone else hangs out in the slow lane.

But, wait! I really don't like this line. I turned to see my sister and Audrey. They shrugged their shoulders. They didn't know either. As I got closer to my new line, one thing was perfectly clear. All the terrorists at Heathrow were in this line. It looked like a central casting call. Terrorists of all nationalities, races, colours and creeds. The only thing missing was one with an eye patch and maybe a parrot on his shoulder or perhaps a dueling scar. Merde! What the hell? I don't belong here, I thought, I'm wearing an eight hundred dollar Calvin Klein trenchcoat! The line began to move. As I approached the agent, I noticed the man in front of me was standing impassively as the agent took out a razor blade and slit the lining of his carry-on to shreds. Jesus! He's wearing a trenchcoat, too! He didn't move a muscle or clench a jaw. He just watched the customs agent reduce his once really beautiful satchel to ruin.

Oh God! Nightmare! Finally, the man with the formerly beautiful attaché gathered up all the pieces, tucked them under his arm and, not looking back, walked off to get on his plane.

Oh, dear! Oh, dear! My beautiful Ghurka bag!

The agent signaled me to come forward. I guess he could tell I swung between terrified and deeply puzzled. He reached down, picked up my bag and placed it on the table. "Is this your bag?" Yes, I said. "Would you mind opening it for me?" Of course, I said. I unzipped my bag and there on top of all my clothes? My 9" long fish knife! Oh, Christ! I thought. I'm going to throw up ~ and, then I'm going to jail! We locked eyes. And, he smiled. "I don't think you are going to hijack the plane with a fish knife, but, how about if I wrap it and the butter knife back up, give it to the steward and you can pick it up in Seattle?"

Oh, yes. Thank you. That would be lovely, I said. And, with a deep sigh of relief, I gathered up my beautiful Ghurka and went off to get on my plane.

There's a lesson here, but, you know what it is . . .

http://www.thesilvervaults.com/

http://www.ghurka.com/EXPRESS%7C%7CKhaki%20Twill

Day 18 Everyday Grateful ~ Sunny!

Walked around the newly planted pots. Heaven!
Planted basil from Trader Joe's in my little kitchen garden.
Happy!

At Your Fingertips ~ Luxury for the Everyday

Maybe you are like me: you have darling things you've bought on trips when they caught your eye. They come home to live with you and often don't see the light of day ever again.

Many years ago, I made the commitment to use what I have ~ maybe not in the way it was originally intended but, if I liked it enough to buy it, I really want to make good use of it.

I'm soooo not interested in providing job security for dust. Just what we busy people don't need ~ more work.

Several years ago, I found this astonishing camel at a church bazaar. it's heavier than hell. I have no idea what it was originally for. It appears to have a place for something carved into its saddle. I think I paid $10 for it. When I got it home, I found a glass bowl (probably candy bowl missing its lid.) Sheesh, talk about a perfect fit! I filled the bowl with q-tips and the darling camel kneels in the family bath ready to be of service.

One of the things I am a sucker for is the small silver urns from the 30's and 40's when everyone smoked and it was considered polite to have a container of cigarettes on your coffee table for guests or at each plate for coffee and cigarettes after dinner. Creeps me out just thinking about it. But, it wasn't the fault of the little urns that they were used for that job.

I've given mine new jobs. In my bathroom, I use one to hold my q-tips. It looks pretty, clean and happy. Certainly happier than when it was forced into tobacco servitude.

Because I've got the world's smallest bathroom, storage is a problem, so, for things that need to stay out, I try to find nice solutions. I found the mouthwash dispenser in the scratch and dent table for $4 (though I didn't find either dents or scratches.) I had the one-off handsome liqueur glass. Perfect little combo.

As I may have mentioned, I don't worry about whether my silverware is polished. I use it and enjoy it every day. Sure, if President Obama were coming over for coffee and a chat, I'd stay up half the night shining the silver, but since that is not likely, I don't sweat it. I'd rather treat myself nicely every day by using it than by cursing it on holidays when I feel compelled either not to use it because it's tarnished or work for hours shining it. With that as an attitude, no wonder people think silver is not worth the hassle.

Lately, I've been having friends over on a more regular basis. It was feeling a little cloistered around here ~ and, not in a good way. After dinner, I like to serve coffee and tea as we sit around the table and visit.

Again, my little silver urns come into play. None of them match but they are so spunky and friendly ~ who cares? I predict there isn't a second hand store in the US that doesn't have at least one. They are very reasonably priced; available in silver and silver plate. For my coffee service, I like to provide raw sugar crystals and sweetener for my guests (yes, I do think artificial sweeteners are poison, but . . .) The darling creamer was also second-hand. All these things on a tray with a French press full of freshly ground coffee add an element of luxury to an everyday occasion.

Day 10 Everyday Grateful ~ a lovely sunny day made more wonderful

because my Logan is in town for an audition. Heaven!