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I 'm wife, a mother , a daughter, a sister,a friend,a crazy faerie loving, art creating, born in England living in the states, blond hair blue eyed, tea drinking, mixed media, atc swapper, digital artist, blogger ,Facebook, reader, writer, old movie watcher, paper addicted, high heel lover, dog owner,cupcake eater, creatively eccentric.. party hat wearer. Welcome to my blog. Where I hope you'll stay awhile and come back often. Hugs Wendy

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Sunday, March 21, 2010

The China Cabinet



The china cabinet sat in the corner of my grandparent’s living room between the TV and the door to the hallway. I would sit for hours gazing through the glass doors to the wonderment of memories my Nanna had collected there. Inside there were bone china tea sets which once belonged to her mother. One was white bone china with a pale blue band around the top and the other gold with beautiful painted flowers. They were so thin and delicate that I feared to touch them.
The cups had a watermark and when you held them up to the light you could see a depiction of a Japanese geisha.
There were wedding cake toppers and a sliver bird of peace that had been on my Mums wedding cake. There was an old wooden doll of mine that somehow had ended up in the cabinet. But the things I remember the most were a small seal made from real seal skin, and a tiny white mouse with a red and white checked dress and a blue coat.
Nanna had brought it for me when we had gone to the seaside. It was tiny, no bigger than a half an inch tall but perfectly formed. It was made from felt and had a piece of thin leather for the tail and minuscule red seed beads for its eyes. It stayed in the china cabinet for years, although I had asked for it many times. But Nanna had been firm that if I had it would be lost and in hindsight she was right because it would have been lost. Because she had kept it safe I now had it. I am sad to say my Nanna passed away some years ago, but I think she would be proud to know that I too have a china cabinet. I look forward to the day that it too is filled with memories.

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