My mother kept them in her special cupboard for tableware that was brought out for visitors but she never used these, probably because there was only one cup and saucer. I've always had a weakness for florals and for blue and white cups and mugs, so I keep them on a shelf in the kitchen where I can see them every day.
A rummage around Google informs me that Leighton Pottery was in existence from 1940 to the mid-1950s, that the May Blossom series was made by the process of transferware. I'm guessing they might have been a wedding present. My parents didn't throw them out but they didn't cherish them. I do.
I'm adding May Blossom crockery to the list of Things I Love. This list, and its companion, Things I Want to Do are the rough drafts of the directions I want to take when I'm stronger. A form of magic perhaps, to conjure up a bright future.
4 comments:
It's lovely. Funny the way things acquire value and nestle into our hearts: "sentimental value" is such a strange belittling term for it. It ought to be the ordinary definition of value, with a qualified "commercial value" for the other sort :-)
I agree, Dale. Good to see you again.
I am going through some of that as I navigate my way through my parent's home furnishings. I have my mother's china here with me. I have purchased pieces to replace cracked and broken pieces when I have been able to locate them. It is strange how the smallest item can take on magnificent meaning for me right now. I love wearing a silver pin that once belonged to her. I wore a scarf of hers to my father's funeral recently and found great comfort in it.
Sky: I've been thinking of trying to locate other items of the May Blossom set at some point, they resonate with me so much.
Post a Comment