after mimosa's (champagne & juice from an orange) for breakfast this morning, boopy and i snuck into the sitting room---with it's beautiful oranges and green's, a delicate painting here, some sculpture there----and opened the china cabinet. not your traditional china cabinet either, children, more like a Chronicles of Narnia style armoir filled with worldly treasure.
the "good" silver.
and i got to peak into her 72 year old soul, as she boasted of wedding gifts and tony's mother's serving platter and a collection of teacups with four-leaf clovers on them. these delicate pieces we treat with the utmost care and yet never touch on a daily basis. beautiful, hand painted creations. timeless and entirely breakable, but never put to the test of a weekday meal.
i want to eat my toast on limoges. i want to dig candy pumpkin's out of the milkglass candy jar. i want to sip my evening tea out of that 4-leaf clover cup & saucer. i want to treat my daily consumption habits with the utmost of consideration and respect.
i don't want to polish the silver.
and handwash my dishes, every single day.
i don't want to take the time to have what i desire.
isn't that the truth?
my body was repulsed when i woke up wednesday morning, after a late night out with the strangest of characters, and i looked at my room---an explosion of spoiled-rotten american girl---and i had to leave it once again while i went to work. so the past 48 hours i've layed so low. i've polished silverware. i must have made 10 cups of tea. i've run two bathes and loved every hot, steaming minute. i watched two movies, made my bed, googled countless random things, retrieved old drawings, downloaded new music, written letters, held on tight to my soul and it's simplest of needs.
i have been meaning to say something to myself for some time: take care.
stop taking care of everyone else and take care of you.
take that small moment to get what you need.
set the table of your soul, stephanie.