A Memorial to Lily of the Valley Dishes

Something horrible happened while House of Seven was being written.  

Let me fill in the background. We decided to remodel the kitchen. As a new bride and a senior citizen, I had too much stuff...still have too much after two years have passed.

As a man who has cherished his ancestors' possessions and has lived among priceless antiques, while acquiring a lifetime's worth of worldly good on his own, my husband, who is also a senior citizen, has at least twice as much stuff  as his bride brought into the marriage.

We've given away truckloads of our kitchen dishes and utensils. Family members received some dishes too. In the garage, we still have things we don't need.

When we married two years ago, we agreed not to use paper plates to serve our families as they came together to become one. We needed matching dishes, and we bought them.  I love dishes. We could set a table for an enormous group.

Oh, we were talking about remodeling the kitchen. The electrician paid a visit. He needed to run a wire down the space where we were moving the fan over the stove top. To do so he needed to go up into the attic.

My husband went into the hall, pulled down the stairs to the attic, and led the way. At the top of the stairs a box was in the place where the electrician wanted to step. When the electrician picked up the old cardboard box, the bottom fell out.

About that time, I heard a crash so loud I thought one of the men had fallen from the attic to the floor. Subdued by the force of gravity, the old box hit the floor, dishes flying to  the floor and shattering. I dodged missiles of fine china--Lily of the Valley.

Those dishes belonged to my husband's mother, and he has Lily of the Valley silverware. Maybe I need a new set of Lily of the Valley dishes for Christmas.