A NEW CUP ON THE TREE

I have several Internet friends whom I’ve known since long before I started this blog. We met on various sites, commented on each others’ posts, got into a little easy back-and-forth exchange of recipes and ideas and stories, and though few of us even know each others’ names, they seem like long-time friendships, born of conversations with no goal in mind save getting to know each other’s lives and families and homes and hometowns.

When I began this blog, I e-mailed a few of them, saying that I was taking a plunge here, with a hesitant little beginning, of some small Southern memories and insights and anecdotes, and almost every one accepted and is still following along on this haphazard ride.

And the welcome and the acceptance and the everyday camaraderie which come with this territory have been amazing and wonderful. We find commonalities in the kitchen, the garden, in writing and in family life; we compare GrandChildren, pets, crafts, and vacation spots, and the great generosity of spirit just overflows.

Just last week I received the sweetest, most unexpected e-mail, regarding our Tree-Cup Tree in the back garden. The writer is a long-time friend; I’ve heard the comings and goings of her own daughter, almost since she was born. To each other, we call our girls “HERSELF.” And she and her own HERSELF were offering us a lovely gift:

Rachel,
I have a beautiful light blue, white and silver floral pattern tea-cup, not quite integral enough for hot liquids any longer (hairline crack).
Its part of a set that goes with the set that my husband brought back from Japan in the belly of a nuclear sub, lo these many years before I knew him.
Would it find a place on your teacup tree or would it spoil the balance you so carefully created?
Sending you the best,

And it was signed by the e-friend who comments as “Kouign Aman.”

So I, of course, delightedly replied:

We were just speaking this morning, Herself and I, of perhaps taking the teacups down when Winter comes, for I don't know what the changing frosts might do to the china. The ribbons are still surprisingly bright and unwrinkled, but I'm sure the bad weathers to come might fade some of their beauty---hope I can find another roll of that Tiffany blue. That was a bit of serendipity when I went to the wrapping lug.

I cannot tell you how sweet your offer of the cup is, from a friend, and with a history and provenance as sweet and historic as a crate on the Mayflower. We both said AWWWWWW. We will give it a happy home---lots of sunlight and birdsong and quite a few visits from admiring guests and neighbors and happy children. And we'll tell everyone her story. (And you KNOW I'm gonna do a piece on her when we hang her amongst her new friends).

And from her:

May I please have a mailing address, and I will send the cup off post-haste, so that it arrives in time to be managed in whatever way you manage the rest.

And so, back and forth, with little snippets of our activities and routines, and then it arrived, and I couldn't wait to let her know:

The package arrived today, just wonderfully packaged and exactly as it left your hands. And INSCRIBED in gold!!! I hope that is waterproof pen, for it will get wet a lot. The two Herselfs communicated across many, many miles to do such a lovely thing.

It's just a beautiful piece, with its dainty decoration and svelte shape---a perfect teacup, and I know you've enjoyed it in the past.

So this morning, the three of us---Our Girl, Caro and me---went out to the tree, armed with the cup, the scissors, and a stout step-stool for climbing and arranging. We chose the place, removed a Tiffany cup with her T-blue ribbon, boxed her in the same mailing-box with all the same bubble-wrap and cunningly-crafted cushioning, and she'll be off to her new family soon:

Bottom of new cup, with her Birth Certificate:

Her priceless inscription:

Click on pictures for a closer look.

And in her place on the tree---even without a flash, she SHINES.

I think she's right at home.