Grandmummy's China

I am still slogging through the "get rid of all the junk" project I began several months ago (see Passing on the Stuff). There's a ray of daylight in the garage (meaning: you can actually walk between the shelf units and the ping pong table without having to climb over piles of cardboard boxes & garbage bags). But we have miles to go before we sleep...

I've made a pact with my friend Janet down in Oregon, who is shoveling out her basement after bidding a fond farewell to her college-bound twins, that we will do this de-cluttering thing together, at our own pace, cheering each other on as we go.

We celebrate via e-mail. I write: "Dear Janet, I got rid of that box of frames. They weren't even in good enough shape for the Goodwill so I chucked 'em all. It felt strange, but also liberating." To which she replies, "YAY FOR YOU!!!!!!! I managed to clear out that filing cabinet this weekend." And so forth. Embarrassing as it is to have accumulated all this stuff--and to be as paralyzed as I seem to be about getting rid of it--it's nice to have company as I do the work.

Which brings me to: Grandmummy's China.

My dear southern grandmother had a plate for everything, it seems. Several complete sets of plates, in fact. After she passed away a few years ago, I came home one afternoon to find four HUGE crates on my front porch. Grandmummy's crystal and china, sent to me all the way from Georgia. None of which I had requested. All of which was evidently now mine.

I am not, as my friends will tell you, a china & crystal kind of gal. So it's been sitting in the storage unit forever. A few months ago, I gave the crystal to some dear friends who love to entertain and will no doubt use even the the grapefruit cups and compote dishes.

The china is Havilland, and flowery and trimmed with gold and can't go in the dishwasher... It's too nice to just leave it out for The Truck the next time they call... so if you want it... it's yours.