My dad had built the house along with a few uncles. It was a really nice house but my mom hated it because it was so far from everyone. We lived there for 3 months and ended up moving back to the city. We kept the house as a "lake house" even though it wasn't technically on the lake.
A few months after we moved, the house burned down. It was determined to be arson.
Anyway, I was young so the whole impact of a house burning down didn't impact me like it did my parents. The most crushing thing for me was losing my ceramic tea set.
Flash forward to last weekend. My dearest darling took me to a bed and breakfast just outside of town for a night away from, well, everything. It's a quaint little town that offers not much more than a few antique shops and a few b&b's.
We spent the afternoon browsing the shops and I came across this:
This little set is what I remember to be exactly like the one I used to have. It was awesome running across this. It brought back so many memories! Oh the tea parties I had with my tea set.I was a budding Englishwoman brought down in my prime by a house fire.
Who knows who I could have become had I not lost that precious tea set.
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