"A power of china"

In one of Sarah Orne Jewett's novels, Deephaven, two girls discover a dining room cupboard filled with "a power of china." I loved that description. They were referring to the amount of it, but I find china does wield a certain power over me and some other dish divas as well. Come on , admit who you are! In my dining room pie safe and crammed into my pantry, are way too many sets of dishes that refuse to be given away, sold, or even stored out of sight. Is it the memories they evoke? Is it the fear that even though I may not have used some of them in this century, if I got rid of them I would immediately have a desperate need to serve some seldom thought- of dish that only that light blue fluted "thingamajig" would hold? Is it a hording complex? Whatever it is, my children will have to deal with it all after I am gone.

My Mary Hadley pottery--my mother had this farm pattern when I was a child, and I love its color and its simple elegance-not to mention the rush I get from the chicken plates!

My English breakfast set-- the only truly fine china I own, it is to die for (I thought I would be old enough to die before I saved enough money to buy it.)

Phil's mother's "Avon Rose"--I can't use it without picturing it on MiMi's dining room table laden with turkey, dressing, sweet potatoes and cranberry sauce. I also have her set of vintage Santa plates and matching glasses that bring cravings for cold coconut cake and homemade boiled custard!

My mother's German china--lime green and pink cabbage roses trimmed in gold. She, like me, had to save up to buy it and it is precious to me for it brings back memories of her table and the love she put into her simple, delicious food.

My yard sale English china--I bought it in Scotland at a yard sale across from a castle! It belonged to the lady's mother (deceased) and it is beyond beautiful with exotic birds and a pale blue border. She gave me a jar of homemade Ruebarb jam that day--what a day!

My junk store treasure--amazingly beautiful aqua and brown china that I use most often. I found it in New England and paid $25.00 for it, but it makes me feel like a million every time I set the table with it.

My "Audun Ferme"--a lovely black and white china with different pastoral scenes on it. It warms my heart with its simple scenes of the things I love and fantasize about like having chickens, shephards and cows enjoying themselves on my "small holding" in France.

My 2 sets of white Walmart dishes-- really cheap, really great-goes with everything and though a little warped, have stood the test of time and grandchildren.

My "snowman" not china--I don't know what this stuff is made of, but it is made IN china, and I use it all summer long for soup for Phil and I. I don't know why I use it for soup cause when you microwave it the bowl turns into a smoking furnace, while its contents remain cold as ice. It's pretty ugly now. The snow is turning a light brown (ugh) and there are chips here and there but it is (or was) really cute. This one I may ditch. I wouldn't want my daughters-in-law to comment on how odd I was to keep such pitiful looking stuff. As a matter of fact, I don't even like it anymore after I have seen it for what it really is-old, and getting really ugly.

Women and their dishes-like men and their _______, just can't be separated. Perhaps the tie that binds are the special memories--the holidays, the birthday dinners, celebrating good friends and good food, and all the love that is bound up in using things you love for the people you love. That I am ever grateful for.

"Its not what's on the plate that matters, its what's on the chairs."

"Just because you have four chairs, six matching plates, and three cups is not a reason you can't invite twelve to dinner."