Devonne Brown

Treasure of the Day

Tableware is fun. Individual salt and pepper shakers for everybody at the table, pairs of cut crystal tall martini glasses, and a genuine Disney mug come in handy for the soirees in my mind as well as daily use. That says something about me, I’m sure.

I schooled the boys on the art of pretty glass usage too. When my grown children come home, they seek out the finest cut crystal in the cabinet for their beverage of choice. They will gladly use the fine china because it can go in the dishwasher. They jockey for that Mickey Mouse cup more than anything. It supersedes even the grandest Fiestaware mug; it’s genuine Disney. 

My mom must not have known about the individual little salt and pepper sets or she would have had them. She had every other piece of fine china known to man. She made sure she had the dishes that were used once a year. White bone china so fine that I could see through them. They were adorned with hand painted tiny white dots and ringed with silver, and were so delicate they had to be hand washed. Those little salt and pepper shakers belonged on her table. 

When I was a kid, I was lucky to ever see salt and pepper at the dinner table. No matter which set of dishes we used, except Christmas, that’s a whole other ball of yarn, there was only the big Tupperware salt and pepper shaker. At Christmas and New Years, we had the salt and pepper shakers that looked like ornaments, but there was only one set, and it was unlikely to ever move from the head of the table. There were so many people talking and moving around that kids couldn’t be heard over the din. If you come to my house for dinner these days, you’ll have your very own set of salt and pepper shakers at your plate and will be recognized when you speak. I’m that fancy. 

In my mind, I can see a movie star with platinum hair wearing a white feathery peignoir with feathered slippers in a black and white movie holding those martini glasses. One for her and the other for the tall dark and handsome dude on the phone in the den. Sometimes I pretend to be her, my gray hair is close enough to platinum. I walk around the house in my green terry cloth robe, blue silky pajamas, and cheetah print slippers and talk to my terribly interesting guests, the cats and dog. Our banter is riveting. They appreciate my sense of humor.

I should get more of a life and less dishes.