It’s a pretty special day for this wedding fairygodmother. Four years ago, we married a charming couple. The bride was attended by her young teenaged daughter, who was behaving like a young teenaged daughter. As a distraction, we offered to do a photo shoot of her alone. Turned out that we all had a lot of fun with that photo shoot – bride, groom, me, Larry, and our model. My job during a photo shoot is to act as stylist, setting up the scene, posing the subject, clearing away anything that doesn’t belong in the photo, and distracting people so that they will relax, smile, laugh, look in a certain direction, or whatever it takes to get the appropriate facial expression. Well, this was a teenaged girl. So, of course she was self-conscious. We all spend about five years being painfully self-conscious and wishing the camera would find our inner all-grown-up and glamorous selves that we try to project. All of us. And this pretty girl was throwing these poses right out of a magazine that just weren’t working for her, because it was clear she was pretending to be someone else…. so we got talking. I told her that she was very pretty (true) and that when she got a little older, she was going to be a knock-out (true) and that when she went to her first prom, with all six of her dates, I wanted a picture. She started laughing, she relaxed, and we got some remarkably beautiful pictures of her. Today, she sent me a prom photo. Gorgeous girl, just one date. Made my whole day.
This gorgeous day lily is called Moonlit Snow. Larry gave me this plant for Mother’s Day about eleventy bazillion years ago. Ok, more than ten years, anyway. I planted it right out front, and it has propagated and grown into a healthy lily that produces these enormous blooms. Today, there are about a dozen greeting our guests. Sigh! Lilies make me smile.
The bride said, “I want my wedding bouquet to be filled with light, airy flowers… like you just walked out into a field and picked it.” Ah, romance. She loved it!
I’m having fun, updating the anniversary picture on the Maggie Valley Weddings website every day. Nostalgic for me! Every wedding couple is unique, so every wedding has its own flavor, its own memories. I have the best job in the world. Oh yes, I do!!
If you think the title of this blog post is ambitious, you should see what we’re doing in the kitchen. Ok, what I’m procrastinating about doing in the inn kitchen,today…
This is what we’re dealing with: a fifty year old summer cabin, with a kitchen squeezed in where it would fit. Later, the original builders (a truly delightful couple, Pug & Mickie Pugmire, who could make me laugh until my face hurt) added on to make a spacious home, but the kitchen remained the same – hardwood floors, odd corners, low ceilings, exposed beams, mismatched cabinets, and a charm that I find so appealing that I never want to settle for another dry-walled boring kitchen as long as I live.
Peeking into the Kitchen
So, how do you go about organizing this? You need a few things, like organization skills, determination, stamina, follow-through. Good grief, I’m doomed. Instead, I opted for Letitia. She’s got all those things, and she’s a slave driver. I mean, she says, “Sandee, make a decision. Throw this away or tell me where to put it.” It seems that all I really needed was a couple of days without guests, and Letitia. I may call myself Queen of the Kitchen, but that makes Letitia the Prime Minister. Unless I’m cooking, I’m just a figurehead. I am Purely Decorative, if you will. (Nod to Melinda Redshaw, the bride who introduced me to that wonderful phrase.) So. Letitia. (See how easily I am distracted? Oooo shineee.)
Oh yeah! The kitchen! And Organization! Here’s what’s happened thus far. Every single thing has been dragged out of the cabinets, the cabinets cleaned, the stuff cleaned, and it’s ready to go back in the cabinets. (And in case you’re wondering, NO it doesn’t all fit, if you try that. It’s like putting something mechanical back together. There’s always that extra screw lying around, making you wonder where the heck does THAT go… ) Meanwhile, every item is subject to Letitia’s brutal scrutiny. “Do you need this? Do you use this? How often do you use this? Should it be in storage? Do you want to donate this? Surely you don’t need THAT.” I’m telling you, that woman is worth her weight in gold. We’ve weeded out and removed and consolidated and donated all over the place.
Everything finishes going back in, today.
Most everything is back in place. The remainder has been allocated its proper space. And while we’ve uncovered treasures (my organization skills lend themselves to the occasional Christmas-like, ‘Oh wow, I forgot I had this!’) during this process, I do believe the angels sang when we found ourselves with that most treasured of all things, in a kitchen: a completely empty cabinet.
Seriously. There is one cabinet that nothing is slated to fill. Three shelves. You can’t tell me that’s not a treasure. (There’s not one person reading this, who’s got a kitchen and uses it, that wouldn’t love to have just one more cabinet.) And it’s killing me, here. I mean, I can’t just LEAVE it empty, for heaven’s sake. And Letitia won’t let me put anything useless in it.
There’s only one thing to do. I just don’t see any other option. I’m going shopping.
We leaned forward to listen, as one of the ladies prepared to tell us about her requirements for a Perfect Man. He would be tall, she said, and employed. Funny and smart go without saying. She restricted his age to 35-43, and begging your pardon, he simply cannot be a democrat. We sat back and laughed, and discretely surveyed the dining room. Hey, you never know.
So here I am this morning, preparing to tell you about my notion of the perfect coffee mug. Like my friend’s ideal man, it must be taller than round. It must also fit on my cup warmer. Even though it takes me an hour in the morning to savor that first cuppa, I enjoy my coffee scaldingly hot, so a cup that fits on the warmer should have a flat bottom (I’ve no idea what my friend’s requirements are in that area) so that it will actually keep the coffee hot. Most commercial cups, which bore me to tears, have a concave base that doesn’t make contact with the warmer, and I’m back at the microwave every few minutes. That said, it really can’t be a commercial cup. There are just too many really fine potters out there that can make a beautiful coffee mug, and these North Carolina mountains are right smack in the middle of clay heaven.
A brief aside about our clay… It’s so special that Wedgwood China imported it in the 1700s. It was taken to port via the Indian Road (now I-26) to the port of Charleston and shipped to England. Josiah Wedgwood pronounced it remarkable and called it Cherokee Clay. There you are, a special nod to today being Earth Day.
Back to the Perfect Mug. It should have a pleasing appearance, that evokes some uplifting emotion. It should feel wonderful – the handle should be easy to use, your thumb finding just the right place, and the rim should be thoughtfully crafted so you don’t get that aggravating drip down the side. It should be exactly the right size to hold a bit more than a tea cup, but not so large that your coffee’s bound to cool. It should invite you to lean back and wrap your hands around it on a chilly morning. Decorative, certainly, but being decorative can’t outweigh function… like those silly handles your fingers won’t fit in, or square for the sake of being square, or squat, just in case that’s adorable. Flared rims may be unusual, but that’s because they’re difficult to use. As in architecture, form follows function. And it should be hand-crafted. I don’t want to ‘make do’. I want to Enjoy. I want to Savor. I want to Appreciate -both the coffee and the mug it’s in.
I’m just guessing that my friend would also like to find a man crafted here in these Smoky Mountains, with a pleasing appearance, who feels wonderful, and is just the right shape, who works flawlessly and is prepared to help her enjoy a cup of coffee every morning. I hope she finds him. I’ve found my mug.
Here it is.
Made in America. By hand.
In case you’re wondering, our mugs are handmade by the good folks at Deneen Pottery. And the coffee that goes in them is Elida Estate, from Panama. We’ll be happy to send you home with both. Come enjoy your next cup on the porch by the stream, under these tall trees, at Timberwolf Creek.
Jamie’s strawberry parfait (layers of fresh strawberries, vanilla custard, and strawberry glaze) would make a wonderful dessert, but it’s an Oh So Wonderful way to kick-start your morning. We’ve all heard the saying, “Life is short, so eat dessert first.” But Jamie takes it seriously. Eat dessert first, all right: first thing in the morning!
