Grandma's Dishes

In my on-going quest to log a great many of my treasures (ain't bloggin' grand?!) I stumbled upon this delicate china set.

Given to me by my Mom, who has just turned 100 years old, (remember-I'm adopted-so do the math)
I have had them for a good 20 years.  They survive every move by traveling on my lap with the final load.
They belonged to her Mother.  (so do that math!)

Oddly, for all my collections, I don't own a china cabinet.  I suppose I'm going to have to start working on that. 

UNEXPECTED TREASURE

So, treasures come in the most unexpected places.  Sometimes you have a treasure and you don't even know it.

An article in one of my artsy-fartsy magazines brought my attention to transferware, the art of transfering design by thin copper plate to dishware.  The method made these patterns more affordable to the masses, who couldn't pay the cost of hand painted china.

Cool.

But the pictures posted with the article were of dishes I already owned!

Seriously!

I grew up with these dishes and generally paid them no mind.  I remember my Mom being in her glory when Dad purchased them for her but, quite honestly, never gave them much thought other than to eat from them.

Years and years later, after my Dad's passing, my Mom, in a fit it seemed of discarding everything she ever owned, packed the dishes and sent them to my house.  I was slightly shocked but grateful and used the plates as everyday china for ages.  Again, not much to say about them.  They held food nicely.

I used them up until 2002 when I impulse purchased an inexpensive set of china with a spiral pattern from Pier 1.  I was big on spirals at the time.  I carefully wrapped up my Mom's china and packed it away.

And there it's stayed.

Until this morning when I read the article.

I've always had a soup bowl (the perfect size for a hat pattern tracing) and a platter (great for a matching hat brim) from the set that didn't make it to storage so I popped the bowl out of the cupboard and here's what I found:

The bottom reads:

ROMANTIC ENGLAND

Warwickshire 16th Century

West Gate and Leicester Hospital

~In 1571 the Earl of Leicester endowed as old soldiers home.

English Ironstone

J & G Meakin

England

I was in a rush to snap this to post but a quick peek at the platter appears to

indicate that when I unpack the china I'll find completely different scenes from

different times and areas.  Needless to say, I'm looking forward to the research and discovery.

Unpacking that box has definitely moved to my Top Five Thing To Do This Summer!

Hmm.   Now where can I find a cheap china cabinet?

SUPER TREASURE

My ultra-serious thrift shop score!


I was completely blown away to find them, just sitting there all together, calling my name: Fox-morton........Fooooox-morton............

They appear to be hand made, glazed...no artist markings to be found.
Not a single chip.
 How could they possibly have survived the trip?

Celtic drinking horns.....?

Turkish tobacco holders....?

Other....?

What say ye?

(Though whate'er they are....they are drinking horns now!) ;)

I am ashamed to say what I paid.

$1.99

Thank you, Universe! I promise to care for them well!

QUIXOTIC TREASURE

Ok, there is a much deeper significance to this treasure find than you could possibly imagine.

On April first of this year I was having my monthly Sacred Space Gypsy luncheon with my kindred friend Ron when the topic of Don Quixote came up. (it may have sprang from a discussion on donkeys though I don't quite remember)

At any rate, one of us threw out the question: What was the name of Don Quixote's imagined lover?

Brain Freeze.

For the life of us we could not recall it. Frustrating, eh?

So, we started asking everyone that walked by our table.
And they didn't know either. But, with one huge, shattering (to us) difference: No one....and we do mean no one knew who Don Quixote was.

It started when we asked our waitress if she knew who Don Quixote's girlfriend was. And she replied: Is she here?

It was kind of sad that she wasn't because then we could have asked her her name but it went on in this vein until we realized that no one in the restaurant knew who DQ was. Sigh.

Now, we never expected they knew the intricacies, could quote chapter and verse or could track the epic journey from start to finish but it amazed us that not a soul could admit to knowing him at all. Not even the windmill part.

And trust me, we asked everyone.

Gypsy Ron henceforth declared every April 1st to be Don Quixote Awareness Day. And, as the Universe provides, last evening in the thrift store I unearthed the above booty. Seriously.

And still, no one knows who it is. (Though I will say "famous pirates" is a frequent guess.)

I'm a little sad that Don Quixote is being forgotten. And poor Sancho and his dear, old donkey. Without Quixote, who is to be our knight errant? Our quixotic lover? Our dreamer of dreams?

And if we have even one friend like Sancho to stand by us as we slay our dragons, one friend who, without fail, will support our madness, then we can be said to be truly blessed.

Don Quixote is the book I want to be buried with (Amy-it's on my dresser.)
as I'm sure there will be time to read in the afterlife. Or my afterlife, anyway. (Egad. I hope I don't end up in the non-reading section.)

At any rate, I wonder who it is who thought to carve my Don and Sancho so carefully and painstakingly from wood? I'd like to thank them. And Cervantes, too. It was his dream, afterall.

And, by the by, her name is Dulcinea.

Keep Dreaming the Impossible.
~Mimi
4/26/11

FOUND TREASURE

Today's piece of found treasure was discovered in the best of all ways: In a box by the side of the road labeled FREE!

I was driving through the country one day and there it was. Free.

I netted some other finery, unused lace, bows and old trim. A hurricane lamp, an ancient wooden magazine rack. But the vintage purse, little used, was a true find.

And I still can't help but wonder; who throws this stuff away?

Dolly, my doll to the left, was made by me from the found lace and trim.
One of my beloved characters, Violet Moorfields, a raving Bedlamite, carries her to explain her escape from the assylum.

While they continue to search Vioet for the cell key they are positive she must possess they uh, never quite find it...........

Hmm.

I can't imagine my life without junque and treasure and old things that other people have touched. I like to think that their energy makes me who I am.

~MF