I succumbed.
I did.
I saw this little beauty on the very bottom shelf at the thrift store.
My first response was to gasp.
A little.
Then reason took over as I reminded myself that I am trying very hard to
buy only things that I know I will use.
But the hypnosis of ironstone had me under it's spell
and I picked up this pretty little piece of serving ware and placed it in my basket.
I told myself that it was possible to enjoy it's beauty while shopping.
And then leave it.
But the more I stared at it in my cart the more it had my heart.
I knew it would never be used.
I reasoned that it could always be just a gorgeous display piece.
After all it certainly appears to be vintage.
Who uses these things anyway?
Although . . . . .
with Mother's day just a few days away,
my family could lovingly bring me breakfast in bed using this on a tray.
Along with a vase of beautiful flowers.
But that's not going to happen.
Ever.
My family knows that the only breakfast I enjoy is cereal.
With a little orange juice on the side.
Not exactly a breakfast in bed menu.
Nope.
This won't be used on Mother's day.
Or any of the other three-hundred-and-sixty-four days of the year.
But who made the rule that you could only enjoy things if they serve a purpose?
Not me.
My rule would be:
If it brings a smile to your face, and a dream to your heart,
and it won't break the budget,
it's okay to buy that budget smiley-face-dream-maker.
Just as long as you don't buy so many
that you end up on some TV show for hoarder's.
Or have to join Smiley-Face-Dream-Maker Anonymous.
My other rule is that a woman should always by herself
a little something for Mother's day.
So this is my gift to me.
Here's where you envision me with a smile on my face
and a dream cloud floating over my head,
wishing myself a Happy Mother's Day.
And wishing you a Happy Mother's Day too!
I saw this little beauty on the very bottom shelf at the thrift store.
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A little.
Then reason took over as I reminded myself that I am trying very hard to
buy only things that I know I will use.
But the hypnosis of ironstone had me under it's spell
and I picked up this pretty little piece of serving ware and placed it in my basket.
I told myself that it was possible to enjoy it's beauty while shopping.
And then leave it.
But the more I stared at it in my cart the more it had my heart.
I knew it would never be used.
I reasoned that it could always be just a gorgeous display piece.
After all it certainly appears to be vintage.

Although . . . . .
with Mother's day just a few days away,
my family could lovingly bring me breakfast in bed using this on a tray.
Along with a vase of beautiful flowers.
But that's not going to happen.
Ever.
My family knows that the only breakfast I enjoy is cereal.
With a little orange juice on the side.
Not exactly a breakfast in bed menu.
Nope.
This won't be used on Mother's day.
Or any of the other three-hundred-and-sixty-four days of the year.
But who made the rule that you could only enjoy things if they serve a purpose?
Not me.
My rule would be:
If it brings a smile to your face, and a dream to your heart,
and it won't break the budget,
it's okay to buy that budget smiley-face-dream-maker.
Just as long as you don't buy so many
that you end up on some TV show for hoarder's.
Or have to join Smiley-Face-Dream-Maker Anonymous.
My other rule is that a woman should always by herself
a little something for Mother's day.
So this is my gift to me.
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and a dream cloud floating over my head,
wishing myself a Happy Mother's Day.
And wishing you a Happy Mother's Day too!
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