Earlier today I was reminded of the value of Haviland china by my mother, who could be a china and crystal connoisseur in her next life. Le Mouge, or Le Voge, or something, is also quiet nice — I’m told by you know who :). Mom and I spent the afternoon sorting through jungles of china and crystal that she’s collected over ages, and that I’ve subsequently collected from her. One lineage of china we strategized over was a tea cup collection that my grandmother, Mom’s Mom, maintained for many decades of her life.
“Every summer, my mother would buy one tea cup from Nelly’s Tea Room in Canada,” my mother said. Hers was a family that summered at a big family cabin in Port Cunnington, Canada, for a few decades. It’s a gem of a place that I had the fortune of visiting years ago when I was still doing family vacations with Mom and Dad. We didn’t visit Nelly’s then but it’s on my list for my next visit to ‘Port’, which will hopefully be sooner than later.
This collection offers up 18 cups and saucers, each with a different design and shape. As you might imagine, they have in common flowers, curly cues, and other frilly-type designs iconic of bone china. Our fingers traced their unique shapes and sizes, some quite wide at the mouth and others looking like antique espresso cups with their tiny shapes and straight walls. I’m not sure if there was espresso in Port Cunnington in the 1930s, but if Starbucks had kicked up a little sooner, I’m sure it would have had major market potential there given the espresso cups available at Nelly’s.
What I love about this tea cup collection, besides knowing that each contestant was chosen by my maternal grandmother Helen Koonce, is the space it offers up for my own mother to reminisce. I’m in a nostalgic and reflective space at the moment — moving and creating a life seem to spur that feeling — and I’ve adopted the habit of regularly asking Mom questions about her life and memories of her mother. I’m not sure if its the health issues Mom has endured in recent years or just the realization that my parents were people before they were my parents, but I like self-indulging in Mom’s (very clear) recollections. Listening to her go on is like putting on an old sweater that fits just right and keeps you warm.
Sigh, tea cups. Another sigh, mothers. Third sigh, keep my fingers crossed these cups stay fully intact on the 3000+ mile drive ahead. Okay, stop sighing.