Yesterday, unpacking one of my favourite old things I have from my biological mum, I picked up the ancient Japanese teapot, and the handle came of in my hand! The heart skipped a beat while I tried to understand what had happened. Then, shaking, I tried to pick the pot that had fallen down into the sink and was praying to the powers that be, please don’t let the pot be broken to.. And thankfully it wasn’t. ‘Twas only the handle that had fallen off. But I urgently called up my friend who deals with old stuff all day, and said HELP! And today maybe it will be mended. My heart hopes for this. Because even if I don’t use it to make tea in, it is one of the most beautiful teapots I’ve seen and has huge sentimental value. I don’t want it to be broken 😦
After this horrible incident, I had to take a moment to call my heartbeat down. I couldn’t continue unpacking, and as such I still have some boxes left, but less than what I started with. It’s moving forward! I might try to finish one more today. Because then there are not much left. There are three boxes of stuff that I haven’t decided if it’s worth unpacking because it’s not something I really need. Copper pans and pots, tin-drinking cups, some bowls, more than what I’ve already unpacked.. Maybe some other weird shit or another. I haven’t honestly unpacked them since 2011. Maybe I should look through it before deciding to bring it down into the basement..
Ah.. my teapot. Even now, almost a whole 24-hour period later.. I still have trouble thinking about it being broken. It hurts. It’s like something inside have broken with it. EVERYTHING else handled the move (or the second move without being unpacked) fine as far as I can tell. No mugs have lost an ear, no plates have gone into a thousand pieces. Not even a fractured drinking glass. But my beloved tea-pot! WHY is that?! did it single out the most precious thing and went for it with a hammer of mischief?! I am very angry and sad and broken about it.
My slice of heaven 