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One of my childhood fantasies was a recurring theme of holidays and decorating. When I was a grown-up, a mommy with babies and a house of my own, I would decorate with tablecloths and dishes appropriate for the season. Fancy silverware was used only at Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter, as was the same with all my little girlfriends who dreamt the same dreams of love, Prince Charming, and family. .jpg)
The pièce de résistance would be two tall standing hutches; one of which was part of the dining room set, and an unpainted but well-worn one in the kitchen.
It took close to thirty years to accumulate the Easter pastel napkins, the Halloween towels, the Thanksgiving tablecloth and the Christmas lace, but I did. I was even able to enhance my collection to include red hearts towels at Valentines Day, and green runners for St. Paddy’s.
Part of the decorating process was to align the holiday dishes of the season on the kitchen hutch, complete with the appropriate table clothes and other linens. I am amazed at how excited I still become when it is time to replace the dishes. If you ever want to buy me a present, get me a linen tablecloth and I am ecstatic.
My beloved is happy too because it’s the only time I thoroughly clean the house. Vacuuming after three dogs is a daily occurrence, but this is different. Its like I get a fit of energy, a massive shock of activity that will not let me rest until the house is cleaned from top to bottom to showcase the newest holiday dishes. He bought me the hutches because he knew it made me happy, never realizing it was feeding an obsession.
After all the junk and knickknacks are dusted and washed clean, I stand back and admire my handiwork. I am done for the month and it is time to move on to something else. I am reminded once again as it becomes more apparent year after year.
The simple things in life become the most precious, simply because they are.
But as long as I am able to reach the deep grooves in the hutch, there will be dishes there.
Sparkly clean and shiny, the display of old dishes proclaim, “A family lives here” just like my childhood fantasies.
I shall be content for the rest of my days.
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The pièce de résistance would be two tall standing hutches; one of which was part of the dining room set, and an unpainted but well-worn one in the kitchen.
It took close to thirty years to accumulate the Easter pastel napkins, the Halloween towels, the Thanksgiving tablecloth and the Christmas lace, but I did. I was even able to enhance my collection to include red hearts towels at Valentines Day, and green runners for St. Paddy’s.
Part of the decorating process was to align the holiday dishes of the season on the kitchen hutch, complete with the appropriate table clothes and other linens. I am amazed at how excited I still become when it is time to replace the dishes. If you ever want to buy me a present, get me a linen tablecloth and I am ecstatic.
My beloved is happy too because it’s the only time I thoroughly clean the house. Vacuuming after three dogs is a daily occurrence, but this is different. Its like I get a fit of energy, a massive shock of activity that will not let me rest until the house is cleaned from top to bottom to showcase the newest holiday dishes. He bought me the hutches because he knew it made me happy, never realizing it was feeding an obsession.
After all the junk and knickknacks are dusted and washed clean, I stand back and admire my handiwork. I am done for the month and it is time to move on to something else. I am reminded once again as it becomes more apparent year after year.
The simple things in life become the most precious, simply because they are.
But as long as I am able to reach the deep grooves in the hutch, there will be dishes there.
Sparkly clean and shiny, the display of old dishes proclaim, “A family lives here” just like my childhood fantasies.
I shall be content for the rest of my days.
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