I am honored and flattered and strangely speechless about being the first feature in my friend Erin’s new series, Show Me YOUR Roots.
The prompt is to write about what brought you to the place you are in now — personally, professionally, in regards to your blogging/writing.
I hope you’ll click over and read. Erin is a brilliant writer and I’m sure you’ll want to add her site to your reader as well.
I grew up around fine things. China, crystal, sterling flatware and holloware. My grandparents (and then parents) owned a jewelry store that also sold giftware and dinnerware.
In the later years, the bridal registries slowed down with the advent of department store and online registries and OMG TARGET! But over the 65 years our store was open, thousands of couples registered at our store for fine and casual china, crystal and flatware.
A lot of girls had sterling flatware or fine china handed down from a grandparent or parent, but most people wanted to register for their own. Great thought went into the decision. My grandmother would set their choices up as if they were being used on the big mahogany table we had in the china section. She would let them look at everything together, with different flatware, different crystal, different color tablecloths, everything.
Brides would spend sometimes hours in our store choosing just the right items.
I don’t have to tell you what happened to the complete 12 place settings they all ended up with (at an average in today’s prices of probably $175 per place setting) do I? It was placed nicely in a china cabinet for all to see, but never to touch.
If the china and crystal was ever used, it was at Christmas, Thanksgiving and maybe Easter. A romantic evening may call for it, but probably not.
The silver was meticulously placed in a tarnish-preventive box and taken out only to polish and for those holidays.
When I was about 8, Mimi (my grandmother) took me to the silverware wall and asked me to choose a sterling pattern. Yes, I was only about 6 months older than Henry is now when I chose the flatware I wanted for the rest of my life. Even when I was 8, I appreciated simple with deep engraving.
Old Maryland Engraved by Kirk.
My sister chose her pattern 4 years later when she was 8. Hers was more elaborate and ornate. She and I are so different. I would’ve never in a million years chosen what she did, but she still loves hers now.
Every year for Easter, our Easter basket contained a piece of our sterling flatware. Plastic grass, Peeps, some other crappy candy and a sterling fork. Or knife, spoon, tomato server, serving fork, ladle, etc. You get it. We cherished the candy more, though. I mean, what 10 year old wouldn’t?
Jason and I got engaged and I didn’t have to think long about choosing a china and crystal pattern. I’d picked it out a thousand times over… every time I was at the store working. It was always on the top shelf and nearly always in the center. Nobody ever picked the china on the top shelf. It was expensive. But in my opinion, it was the only one to get.
Pickard is a china that is made in the USA and in 1977 it was chosen to manufacture the official china used in embassies and other locations around the world by the Department of State. It’s been the china of choice for Presidents, Queens, Kings, hotels and the US Air Force. Obviously it’s good stuff.
I chose a pattern with a beautiful cobalt and platinum band on an ivory bone china.
Lincoln by Pickard.
I did give Jason the choice between two different Waterford patterns for our crystal. He chose the one I really wanted, mainly because it had the best highball glasses.
Kildare by Waterford.
So before I tell you about my big plan that a few other bloggers are going to be helping me spread the word about, I want to tell you a secret.
I use my sterling flatware every single day.
Yup. And there’s more.
I put it in the dishwasher and have every day since 1998.
I’ve polished it one time since then.
It actually looks better now than it did when I got it!
Catch your breath. One more.
I don’t even own a set of stainless.
Ok. So, what’s this plan I have?
I hope you read that like I say it. You have to read it in the most Southern accent you can muster. Some of you won’t have to try too hard, I’m afraid!
What’s #FineChinaFriday, you ask? Great question!
On Fridays, I challenge you to take out your china and eat supper on it.
You have questions and I have answers.
“But Jana, I’m having spaghetti (insert pizza, beans and rice, takeout Chinese, etc) for supper.”
But SuzieQ, spaghetti tastes so much better on china and with a sterling spoon. And we ALL know wine tastes better in real crystal. I’m very serious. Your bland spaghetti will taste so much better with your fancy stuff. I promise.
“Don’t I have to hand wash all this?”
You can. Manufacturers say so. I don’t. My grandmother never did. My fine china with a platinum band goes in the dishwasher when it’s used.
The trick is (pay attention) to leave it in the dishwasher until it’s completely cooled down… like a few hours or overnight. The gold/platinum bands actually get hot enough to get soft so you want to make sure it cools down all the way to harden back up. This is very important. Your crystal and silver will be fine. I’ve tested mine for 13 years. However, I can’t be held responsible for any broken pieces. Do what you want with the information given!
“My husband thinks it’s dumb.”
Ask him right now if he thinks that it’s dumb that you likely have $2000 worth of china, $2000 worth of crystal and (if you have sterling) (holy crap this number is high) $5000-7500 worth of sterling in your cabinets that aren’t being used? Does he think THAT is dumb? I’m sure he does.
“It seems silly to take it out of the cabinet just to use one time.”
It’s possibly one more than it’s been taken out before. Just sayin’.
“Do we have to eat at the dining room table, too?”
If you want. Or at TV trays. Or just on your lap at the sofa. I recommend the dining room table because why not?
“What if the kids break one?”
Then buy a new one. No. I don’t mean buy a new kid. Buy a new plate. Or glass. Or don’t. If you don’t use it and only look at it, what does it matter? It’s just a thing. I promise. It’s JUST. A. THING.
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Consider this your invitation, engraved on linen paper, to join us as we start spreading the word about #FineChinaFriday. Maybe we can make it a trend that others pick up on. Maybe it will take over the world and instead of Friday nights being boring for us old married folks with kids, we can put the fun back in it by being fancy!
So pull out a few pieces of china and crystal to clean it up. Polish some of your silver and get ready for Friday.
Don’t have fine china? Do you use paper plates? Use real plates instead. Do something fancier than normal. Enjoy it!
If you have a blog? Blog about it. (Grab the button up there)
Put pictures on Instagram, Twitter, Facebook or Google +. Pin them to Pinterest or post them wherever. (use the hashtag whenever possible – #FineChinaFriday)
Don’t want to do any of that? That’s fine. Just get your fine stuff out and enjoy using it.
Remember that a lot of people spent a lot of time choosing it and buying it for you. It’s a shame to let it sit and collect dust.
What are you waiting on? A special day? Well, make Friday your special day.
It’s wordless, yes, but I have to say SOMETHING about it.
This picture is of my grandparents and my great uncle in 1947. They opened their jewelry store in Fort Valley in 1945. This picture was taken two years later.
My grandmother, Mimi, was my age in this picture. 36. She’s also very likely pregnant with my dad in this picture.
While I feel really old some days, this picture reminds me that it’s all relative. I never thought of my grandparents as being “my age” you know? But here they are.
Eight years ago, one of my very best friends in the whole wide universe and I were pregnant at the same time.
She was much cuter, wearing her baby all in her tummy like a perfect little basketball.
I, however, was wearing mine all over. Like a damn muumuu. It’s was offensive. Seriously. Face, hips, butt, arms, butt, belly, butt…
Amy and I were born 6 weeks apart, me being the oldest. We celebrated birthdays together – including our first ones.
Amy: white dress with her hand in her mouth. Me: blue Holly Hobby looking dress (it's 1976, y'all)
Our babies would end up being born 7 weeks apart, her Meg being older than my Charlie.
They were destined to be together. We had big plans for the two of them. They would be in the same class at school, go to the prom together, go to Auburn or Georgia and get engaged. We would be related and it would be GREAT! But we all know how those plans got smashed to bits when Charlie died.
This story isn’t really about all that, though.
When Amy went into labor, she had a very easy one bitch thank goodness. Meg was born sometime in the morning, I don’t remember exactly when. Amy called me immediately. And I mean IMMEDIATELY. She was still being “fixed up” down there and all, too. THAT’s how good a friend she is. She’ll call me when her hooha’s getting stitched up. (This story’s also not about her girly parts, so get your mind back on the subject at hand.)
I was at work, standing by my mom’s desk with tears streaming down my face. My baby was kicking up a storm and I could hear the loudest, angriest, put-me-back-in-there cry from sweet little Meg. Amy told me about how fast it was, that they almost didn’t get to the hospital in time and all this stuff that I was so excited to hear (only to hate her for it 7 weeks later when I labored for nine hundred million hours with Charlie).
And then. Silence.
*chirp* *chirp* *chirp*
*chirp**chirp* *chirp*
I think she may have fallen asleep. I’m not sure, but I’d put my money on it. For about 30 seconds there was just silence. (Except Meg’s incessant screaming – I mean, it’s cold out there and she was naked and all)
Then Amy says to me, and I quote (because I will NEVER forget it in my life), “Oh my gosh, Jana, does this mean I have to take her home with me and take CARE of her forever?”
I’m pretty sure at that point, Newt got the phone and the conversation was over. Obviously she wasn’t in her right mind!
For some reason this conversation hit me yesterday. The memories flooded back. I could hear her saying it to me and now, in hindsight, it’s a totally valid question.
We are trusted with such precious little lives. Lives that depend on us – emotionally, financially, physically. Lives that will be the future of this world. Lives that may find the cure for cancer. Lives that will probably be someone’s mother or father, spouse or life partner, sister or brother. These little lives will one day make the decision of what nursing home to put us in.
These lives will hopefully one day aim to be the same kind of parents they had growing up.
I hope one day Meg and Henry and their son Russ, remember growing up in loving families and when they think about it, a big smile gets plastered on their faces. I hope they want to be even better parents than we could ever dream of being. I hope they are still friends with each other, no matter where their lives take them.
I hope, above all else, that they all know how much they’re loved every single day.
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Spoiler Alert:
Amy DID in fact take Meg home. She was precious in all her fuzzy headed glory.
A few weeks after they brought home Meg, we brought home Charlie.
Charlie: 2 days old, May 2003
Less than two years after this, Henry came home with us.
Henry: 2 days old, Nov 2004
Three years after Meg was born, Newt & Amy brought Russ home from the hospital.
Newt & Russ
My parents and Amy’s parents have been friends for years. Amy and I have, too. Newt and Jason were added in there and became fast friends (even though they knew each other casually). Our families are more than likely complete (they ARE complete, but you never know what might happen) and our friendship is one that will last until the end of time.
We may not talk all the time or see each other every week, but our relationships will last until the sunsets of our lives.
I hope theirs will, too.
The five minute timer is set… uncut and unedited writing to commence.
Friday we handed over the keys. Jason and I drove to Warner Robins to sit in an attorney’s office and sign our house over to its new owners. This was the first time we had met them. Sue and Ray. What a lovely couple!
The closing was light and funny and OMG quick. Checks were passed around, signatures were scribbled, jokes were made, and we were done. The keys were passed.
We finished before Sue and Ray did. We headed to the bank (woohoo!!) and then met them at the house. Good thing they got there first because, well, we had no keys. We had offered to walk through the house and tell them about all the special little features that they may have been unaware of.
We showed them everything, chatted, learned more about them. They have been stationed in Utah for 18 years with the Air Force. He’s retired. Their two children are both military families and have served our country for years themselves. I got to thank them for doing what they do. He has a contractor job at the base and this will be “home” to them in their retirement. It’s in between their kids and will be convenient for all of them.
We got to meet one of their children and their family. We got to meet his (or her) brother. I can’t remember. A lovely family through and through. But the best part is that the house is no longer an Auburn-Georgia house, it’s an Auburn-Alabama house!!!!
As we left, keyless, we got hugs from all of them, like we were their family now. Sue looked at me and said, “We’ll take good care of your house and love it like you do.” And that is all I want. I want somebody to love it and take care of it. And I know they will.
*time’s up*
Want to join in for Stream of Consciousness Sunday? Head over to all.things.fadra to link up and get instructions.
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