© jb katke

If a persons’ wealth revolved around their dishes, I am filthy rich. Recently my dishes have started talking to me. I had a few words for them as well.

Through the years I had become heir to several sets of dishes and glassware. I would love to continue the momentum of passing them on. One little bitty problem, many of my young millennial girls don’t want them. I wonder what will take place when they are next in line?

As I began my annual dishwashing ceremony; I was again reminded of how much of what I have is disliked. Washing dish after bowl, after cup, after saucer; they all began speaking to me. This Desert Rose pattern can be seen in antique stores everywhere.

 They were Aunt Janes. She never married, didn’t have a home to call her own until both her parents died, leaving her the only home she knew.  In her years of collecting, did she have hope of establishing her own home and a husband?

Other pink flowers entered my life from an Aunt Marion I barely knew. When she passed away, Mom and Dad traveled to collect Uncle Charlie and whatever else they could fit in their car. Among them, dishes.

The interesting story on them are how important they were to Grandma Andrews, Moms mother. Jane had her china; she may have thought this was her chance to have her own. I know she voiced an inquiry of them to my mom. “Mom, we only had so much room in the car.”

Grandma turned her question to me, but I knew nothing. It wasn’t until after mom died that the question came up again. Still, I knew nothing. But sometime later, those dishes found their way  to my house. Apparently, Mom wanted me to have them. The pattern hails from the 1800’s, that’s all I know about them.

I am the proud owner of my mother-in-law’s serving dishes. Or maybe they were her mothers’; it doesn’t matter, they are mine now. More pink flowers. There must have been an unwritten rule back in the day that all china must bear pink flowers. I thought it was only yellow flowers I didn’t like.

My mothers dishes are another story. She got the pieces one week at a time, at the grocery store. Each week a different part of the set was featured. Mom marched them home, right into her retirement hope chest, planning to put them to use after dad’s retirement. They aren’t pink! Blue cornflowers are the design. They remind me her favorite color was blue.

A small red set comes from my daughter. They are high maintenance because they require hand-washing. These are ideal around Christmas or Valentine’s Day. Another plus is they are relatively small; it keeps me from overeating.

I have a set bearing an apple pattern. Also, from Aunt Jane. I believe she got hers at the grocery store, like my mom.  The green leaves and red makes them perfect for both autumn and the Christmas season.

Finally, my dishes. A small set of dinner plates only. They sport a quilt pattern, reflecting my appreciation of quilts.

The plain old white set is what I use on a daily basis. I purchased them expressively for how attractive they would look with the tablecloths I never use.

All of these dishes has made my husband Dave, a dish connoisseur. Some are too small, others have to wide a brim, making the cutting of food awkward, others are too much like a bowl. All in all, each of them are too something. Bottom line: I have had enough!