Strange how a teapot can represent
at the same time
the comforts of solitude and
the pleasures of company.
Truth be told, I’m a coffee drinker. I usually don’t drink tea, but I do admire tea pots. Periodically, when I clean my collection and the shelves that hold them, I pet them and glean their memories. They are like books without words—they tell me stories that I’ve heard over and over through the years. Like a child at bedtime, I enjoy the retelling just as much.
I vote with the tea drinkers and wish it was as easy to get a hot cup of tea as it is to get coffee. Meetings at work always have coffee but not much else. That is a lovely tea pot and towel.
You can add me to the list of like minds, except I do enjoy a cuppa occasionally, and I do love the teapots! oh and the chocolate pots too :^)
Growing up in war time England, before the advent of counsellors and therapists to guide us through dark days, the sharing of a “cuppa” from the “brown betty” with a neighbor was comfort and reassurance and bolstered our courage to soldier on. Nowadays, it is a relaxation with my knitting and a good book.
Here is a link to the poem Mary Ann mentioned:
Mary Ann said:
Me, too, Katherine. As I sit here with my 4:00 a.m. cup of coffee, I am thinking about my little Christmas tree in the dining room. My granddaughter helps me decorate it with tiny cups and saucers, teabags, and little spoons. We set it on a tray with a tea towel, big teapot, and the book A Cup of Christmas Tea.
I, too, am a coffee drinker… with an attraction to tea pots. There is just something about the roundness and the spouts… They are vessels of goodness. =)
MarilynB. in Tulsa said:
Thanks for reminding me how much I like tea sometimes. I good cup of Earl Grey or Jasmine sounds so good right now and my coffee is tasting bitter today.