When I was little, 4 pm was time for tea. Each grandmother, Mamie and Nana had tea a 4, that you could count on. However each had a different presentation. Mamie had a household staff growing up and when she was raising her own brood. Therefore she did not cook or bake because she had someone else do that for her. On the times she did, it was notably bad, but you consumed it anyhow as not to offend. Generally you could count on Pepperidge Farm, or Highland Shortbread. In a pinch, cinnamon toast.

Nana served her own sweets from her own kitchen. Macaroons if not too humid for whipping the egg whites, her own shortbread, and when lucky one might get brown sugar brownies.

Both served Cambric tea, basically warmed water, milk, sugar and a small dose of weak black tea. When we arrived at 10 years of age, the dosage of black tea went up and water decreased and so an so forth until by the time you were at Jr. High you knew how to take your tea. This was important as at Milton Academy where I spent my 6th, 5th and 4th years ( or 7th, 8 and 9th grade) there was time built in for socializing after assembly and before 2nd class. Knowing how to take one’s tea was essential. At Proctor I switched over to coffee as there were few tea lovers there and a more diversified pool of students that came from coffee families.

This morning I made a fantastic find opening a the cabinet over the fridge. There was Mamie’s tea pot! I had possession of it for 2 decades, using it daily, until I was getting ready to move home to Vermont and thought I misplaced it.

Yesterday I tried to move my post-op appointment up for today because of the snow (which is not really happening) and was surprised to get an appointment yesterday morning. Also had my first of 6 palliative instillations of a new DSMO cocktail, which I could only hold for 7 minutes. I am supposed to hold them for at least 20. I go back Friday for #2 then on the 9th, the 15th, the 22 and the final (if I can make it) on 12/30. What a way to finish up the year.

I had to work really hard on Dr. Johnson and her team for the schedule as they had me booked for 6 sessions, but on the 5 then out in February 2 more and one in march, one in April and the final in may. No thank you. Shout out to to Dr. J that she squeezed me in between her and her NP.

Now resting with my grandmother’s tea pot on the bedside, which brings me great comfort as the treasure of all the memories it holds for each of the women who helped to raise me. The treasure is not that it is a rare tea pot, but that it fills my cup of love for each of my grandmothers. That tincture of love is the medicine that will help me heal.

This is the bottom marking, showing the stamp of the company, the seller, the nation, the brand “Embossed Queen’s Ware” and in the very bottom the stamp of Wedgwood on the bottom. I wish the rest of the set was still around, but this tea pot is what remains. My cremains are destine to be held in this teapot when I die and to be laid low in the cemetery in Greensboro Vermont. I like this container more than the newer Urns. So be it.