About 5:45 this morning, Jim and I heard an incredibly loud crash followed by the sound of broken glass. We both shot out of bed and Jim ran to the balcony overlooking the street. The intersection near our flat is the home of many an accident so we figured we were about to see the results of yet another collision.
Jim looked both up and down the street and as we met in the corridor to head back to our room I commented that the breaking glass had really sounded close. Funny how the sound travels.
And then we looked into the “big room.” The family room, the living room, the computer room, the TV room, whatever you want to call it. Both doors to the china shkaf were open. And plates, serving dishes, glasses…broken to bits.
Apparently the glass shelf had just reached its limit, after five years of holding the china and glasses that had been in Jim’s family over the years.
Not one of the goblets survived the fall, but we were thrilled to learn that three dinner dishes, four luncheon plates, four bread plates, and two small bowls were totally intact. So we can still have an intimate dinner for two (guess it’s a good thing that all the kiddos have moved out!) and we can have guests for lunch. Oh, and the cups and saucers were in a different section of the shkaf, so we can even have a tea party. Or coffee klatsch.
A bummer to lose such beautiful dishes that actually had some history to them, but so thankful that no one was hurt. Things are just things, even if they’re beautiful.
(Less weight to pack if and when we should ever move from here…)