Just tea for two
And two for tea
Just me for you
And you for me
A little tinkle of a melody triggers fond memories and weaves it spell on a few of my favorite things.
As I have often said, I loved to visit and spend time with my maternal Grandmother. One thing we did together was have tea.
When I was little, we would have what we called “Cambrick Tea”. Perhaps it had a different name, perhaps I pronounced it wrong. I did have a little trouble with some of my speech (but that is another story). This is the way I remember saying it. It consisted of warm milk, warm water, and sugar. As I got older, my teacup started having proper tea in it.
Having tea, whether real or Cambrick was special.
Sometimes, we used little teacups, or demi cups, with the daintiest of handles. Such petite, pretty, cups. Now, as I’ve ahem,
aged matured, I realize older fingers aren’t as nimble as the younger ones, and wonder if she would have preferred the larger cups. Grandmom didn’t complain though, she would get out these tiny plastic spoons for stirring sugar in the tea, otherwise we would use gold spoons.
Most times we used regular sized teacups. There was a large assortment of porcelain cups with pastel roses. Sometimes we used teacups with an iridescent quality that glistened like pearls. She also had a cup that a man would use to protect his mustache. I thought it was the funniest thing. She told me it was used by my Great Great Grandfather. The cup was fine white porcelain surrounded with a thin gold band. I think about that cup when I see all the mustache things now-a-days. I wonder what happened to that cup?
Some days we would have lunch or some sort of snack on her shell shaped plates where our cups would nestle in the ready made indentation.
I was always allowed to select the cups and the teapot.
She had different teapots, however my favorite was the one that had a wind-up music box on the bottom that played Tea for Two. If she tired of me always picking the same one, she never complained.
I know we didn’t dress for the occasion. Often she would sit in her comfortable chair, our tea things placed in a tray on an organ bench in front of her. I’d sit nearby on an old settee or on my knees on the floor.
When I moved into my first apartment, she gave me a brown teapot which had been in the family for years. I’d use it once in a while. But mostly I made my tea in just a mug.
After I was married, and we were moving out of state, the moving truck stopped by Grandmom’s to pick up an old dresser and bed to add to the truck along with “a few things she packed”. She told me later she “wanted to climb in the truck when she saw all our things”.
When we unpacked, the teapot, teacups and plates were among some of the things she gave us.
We were blessed to have her visit us in that house we moved to back then, and also to stay with us for a few weeks. She also was able to visit us in almost every move we made until her death.
Tea, warms me inside. Somehow, tea tastes better from that little teapot.
Even though there may be only one teacup when tea is served on some occasions, there is always two in my mind and heart.