A friend dropped by this morning to join me for coffee. It’s a simple gesture, but one that I think has gone by the wayside in recent years. So often now we say, “… meet for a coffee at Starbucks? Or even “…the little French place around the corner”. Whatever happened to the simple gesture of inviting a friend in for coffee? No need to fuss – no croissant, butter or jam. Just the coffee, and maybe a little hot milk.
As we sat in my sunny Living Room on this perfect Saturday morning, and as we enjoyed our coffee, our conversation touched on an amazing array of subjects from the fabric I’m planning to use on my armchairs to the current exhibit at the museum to my friend’s memoir class and latest acquisitions at the local consignment shop.
I brought out my Grandmother’s Havilland cups and saucers, along with the silver coffee pot and spoons, all handed down to me through a couple of generations. Why not bring out the good stuff!… I knew my friend would appreciate my beautiful things – she too has a collection of china and linens and silver. No need to worry that I put the instant Folgers in the pot with water that I’d heated up in the electric teapot – because it was the visit that was the best part.