Many years ago, a friend and I would get together several times during the week for tea. It was always late afternoon and we sat together while our children played outdoors. Light conversation lifted our spirits as we talked about how fast our children grew. They were rather melancholy afternoons; yet so enjoyable. When it was time to have tea at her house, I admired the small creamer she would put out with the tea cups. A petite pitcher filled with table cream in a pattern of wonderful pinks, greens and blues. Years later I found out that this was a chintz pattern called apple blossom; the miniature creamer shown on the right. I found one in an unassuming antique shop and purchased it despite a small chip.
I haven't seen this friend for over twenty years. The memories of those conversations over tea remain strong. My creamer brings back those memories as if it were yesterday. Contact an old friend today and be sure to cherish every memory you make over a cup of tea.
A Time to Talk
by Robert Frost
When a friend calls to me from the road
And slows his horse to a meaning walk,
I don't stand still and look around
On all the hills I haven't hoed,
And shout from where I am, 'What is it?'
No, not as there is a time to talk.
I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,
Blade-end up and five feet tall,
And plod: I go up to the stone wall
For a friendly visit.
I don't stand still and look around
On all the hills I haven't hoed,
And shout from where I am, 'What is it?'
No, not as there is a time to talk.
I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,
Blade-end up and five feet tall,
And plod: I go up to the stone wall
For a friendly visit.
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