Photo Credit Johannes Plenio
Spode Plates and the Season That Breaks My Heart
BY HEATHER REID
put up the tree
on November
30th this year,
couldn’t wait. Something about the way the air changed, the early dark, the heaviness I’d been carrying around like a second coat... I needed twinkle lights and garland now, not in two weeks, not after the rush of shopping or the wrapping of deadlines. I needed to believe I could manufacture cheer from muscle memory
So the tree went up, the stockings came out, and the Spode Christmas tree plates made their annual debut. They were a surprise, a gift from dear friends who are our “bonus” set of grandparents. They sent cases of the patterned china last year: tea cups and saucers, plates and bowls, serving platters big enough to feed a crowd in my absolute favorite pattern. I cried when I opened the boxes.
Now they come out in full rotation from Thanksgiving through the first weekend of January. Even when it’s leftovers or cereal, even when it’s just me at the kitchen table between meetings, I use this priceless set. It’s a kind of ritual. A way to say: this moment matters
Because the truth is, this December is hard. I feel overwhelmed by everything: work, school schedules, the brittle pressure to “make it magical.” But more than that, I feel cracked open by the world outside my window. By the violence unfolding in places I love. By the streets of my beloved Chicago filled with fear and fury. By the way fascism doesn’t even bother to hide anymore, it marches in broad daylight now, waving flags.
I