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!!
Every so often you do something, just for the fun of it.
Today was definitely one of those days!
The rain stopped just in time for a bright sunny wedding, bride and groom arrived on their Harley, it was a lovely ceremony, with lots of smiles all around.
And my favorite part, here’s the wedding portrait…
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.
Our wedding couple opted for a breakfast basket this morning, which they said they’ll enjoy in their bathrobes in front of the fireplace. What a perfect spring morning to do so! And the lemon mousse came out perfectly, if I do say so myself. Larry just returned from Florida and brought me Plant City strawberries from the strawberry festival there, and the sweet red berries were the perfect topping for the mousse. Herbed mushroom eggs, sage sausage, apple and pomegranate juices, and the best thing… Last night, I baked them some 7-grain bread with wheat berries and bulgar, and coriander seeds I harvested and dried from the last of the cilantro. Crushing the coriander with a mortar and pestle just made me feel sooooo Suzie Homemaker, and made my kitchen smell heavenly! The bread? Divine. I tucked a little bowl of my peach butter in the basket, too.
(ACK! I just saw the typo in the menu! I typed ‘cardomom’ instead of ‘coriander’. What was I thinking??!? Ah, those late-night creations. Good grief. Well. The bread’s good, and hopefully that’s enough. !!)
The flower girls today were daughters of the bride and groom. He came all the way from Sarasota, she came all the way from Thailand! The two daughters are the same age and were just exquisite little wood sprites that decorated the garden. They danced from flower to flower like butterflies! It was beautiful to watch.
