Green Goblet
Okay, I look like a goose in this picture, but look at the glass, alright? That's the point.
This week my parents brought me a set of green goblets that were formerly my grandparents'. Mom and Dad spent the last few weeks going through my grandparents' house, cleaning stuff up and out, setting up a garage sale, and parcelling out to the family members certain items that we wanted to keep for ourselves. Mama J. and B. Daddy have moved into a smaller place where B. Daddy can receive the care he needs right now, and among the things they left behind was this set of green goblets. There were thirty six of them. I only asked for twelve. Considering that our dining room table sits four regular people and two with no elbows or knees, I don't see the point in having thirty six of anything right now.
Those of you who know me know that I love the colour green. There is a vibrancy and nuance to it that appeals to me. And it makes me happy. Unless it's growing in my shower or on my homemade bread in the form of nasty mold. In which case: shame on it! So the idea of having a set of green glasses to go with my plain white dinner plates made me do a little happy dance on the inside. I admit that I bought boring plain white dinner plates on purpose so that I could do things like this: buy funky glasswear to go with them. Except that I didn't have to buy anything and the glasses came with a memory (which makes everything better). Now when I set the table with them, I will remember how they graced my grandmother's dining table (her favourite colour is also green, incidentally), especially at Christmas when the tiny twinkle lights reflected off of each glass's multiple facets making the dining room glow. And I will think especially of how my grandfather would shake the ice in his empty glass and look imperiously at my grandmother for a refill. His face is always so funny when he is being bossy. Let me rephrase: his face is always funny. I love my grandparents very much, and I'm so glad to have something in my home to remind me of them. Now I'm getting sappy.
I am doubly blessed because I now have a memory of my own to go with the glasses. When I told the Man I'd asked Mom and Dad to bring them for us, he paused, half grinned at me, and then said, "Well, I've never really liked those glasses but if you like them and they make you happy, that makes me happy." And for us, that's a big deal, considering it took us a full year to agree on pictures for the house because we are both overly opinionated and stubborn in our vastly different tastes. And now I'm done being sappy.
But how 'bout them glasses?
