Tag Archives: gin

Green glasses.

I write about the uncommon aspects of common things. I write about gratitude and beauty. I write about awareness of the imperceptible in the cacophony of daily life. I write about how we change, and shift in our perceptions based upon experience – and by experience I mean wisdom earned.

Hannah sea glass

My girlfriend Hannah’s sea glass from Isle of Lewis, Outer Hebrides, Scotland

It is the creation, by hand, of something long lasting that inspires me most, and even the remnants of those long ago hand-crafted items which wash ashore as bits of sea glass, or are found in archeological digs (which sounds so much more impressive than rubbish tips or garbage dumps of our distant ancestors).  The shift I want to write about today is more than 30 years in the making (for myself).  Humankind has drunk from glass vessels for some 3500 years, the first known examples coming from ancient Mesopotamia – now Syria; let the sadness of the destruction of their civil war and ISIS and so forth spill forth just as wine spilt from a broken stem of your grandmothers.


Waterford Tyrone

In my twenties, I aspired to own a suite of full lead, hand-cut crystal in a pattern called Tyrone from Waterford. My mother made it plain that no one in our family would purchase it for my wedding (though later she had to have their Lismore pattern), but my mother-in-law, Marcia, was of a different mindset. At the time, in the early 1980s, the stems were $31 – $33 and not only did my ex-husband and I receive some for wedding gifts but for Christmas and birthdays thereafter Marcia made sure this was my gift. Ultimately the cupboard held 6 each of Champagne flutes, red wines, and water goblets. I loved everything about them – including that they were special order only and had to wait at least six months for each to arrive. They are still gorgeous, and perfect, and have held some very memorable beverages and experiences.

On an entirely different end of the drinking vessel spectrum, I also love (Great) Depression Era 20150311_105805petroleum glass – the green. At a time when the world economy was reeling from the stock market crash, drought, and massive unemployment, and the global social malaise that would propel all of us into World War II, movie theatres (and others) in the United States of my parents youth gave out premiums in the form of this glassware – pitchers, cake plates, dishes, cups, vases and drinking glasses. I can’t recall when I first became aware of the glasses, though both grandmothers had cake plates with the sunflower (or daisy) embossed on them. But, about the same time as the Waterford was trickling into my consciousness and then my life so too, optic swirled green glasses. At less than a $1 a piece at estate sales and antique shops and with a history of 50+ years of service behind them I was enchanted – and they came home to be used, not just admired.  Yesterday morning I opened a box recently arrived from eBay with 11 of the largest of these I have ever acquired, and delighted would be an 20150311_110111understatement as with the shipping each hand-blown beauty cost less than $2.75. I washed them. I took a picture. I put them next to the other odd green glasses in the kitchen cupboard and truth be told I was RIDICULOUSLY happy. I discovered that the short ones hold the same volume as the Waterford Tyrone water goblets, at which point I did an online search and discovered that these now sell for $200 a piece which prompted my listing them on eBay. A Martini will taste just as lovely in the short versions of my new, very old, glasses as they did in my Waterford goblets. Wisdom doesn’t preclude an appreciation for the rare and exquisitely crafted, but it certainly embraces when it is time to let go and buy some good gin with the proceeds. 😉

If you enjoy my blog please consider ‘buying me a cup of tea’ in your currency via PayPal to livelikeadog@gmail.com and then, please do share the blog with your friends on Facebook, Google+ and Twitter – I am @TeresaFritschiTo order my book, please click on the cover art of my book below, thank you! 



No one compares to you!

ImageHere’s a truth you don’t often read or hear someone say – (sometimes) I miss my former husband.  He’s a truly amazing man, and a part of my heart will remain his until my dying day.  He ‘saw me’ when all I could see was him, and I perhaps doubted it was possible to be seen, and he loved me and protected my essential being in a way that honors the Cherokee philosophy at right.  With his love I was free to walk the earth unmolested – and that is something precious to know as a woman. I would like to think that our time together truly did connect him with (the) Source.

Since he re-married I have very purposefully respected the boundaries of being his former wife and not called, and only nominally exchanged email or Facebook messages – usually to ask him about his mom whom I love dearly.  We saw each other for the first time in a couple of years over the weekend, he took me to brunch at The Revelry in Rochester NY (a yummy meal complete with beet Deviled eggs – almost too pretty eat – and a wicked potion of gin infused with sage and Douglas fir and Chartreuse called a Twin Peaks) we had a great conversation, caught up on our lives, I shared the rationale behind my desire to move to Croatia.  It seemed we tripped over some of the same things that we did in the 1980s when we were twenty-something year olds who love and decide to marry. Two very special points came from our seeing one another; his admittance that he didn’t know himself then and his (lovely) expressing once again “you were light years ahead of your peers”.  I am sure I am not the only ‘ex’ who still has the capacity to love their former spouse but it still feels special and sacred.  But, there’s one more reason no one compares to him, (slightly riffing Sinéad O’Connor’s song that was at the top of the charts as we were divorcing 23 years ago), and that is – pedicures.

Beyond their most utilitarian function of getting me from point A to point B, if I can be so bold, I had (still have) pretty feet and striking ankles and very reasonable legs.  When I was about 12 my brother gave me a Clairol pedicure kit for Christmas in which you dropped these massive batteries into to the handle with interchangeable heads for buffing and filing and smoothing – primarily Imagebecause my mom must have discovered that I was trimming the calluses off the bottom of my feet (from walking around barefoot all the time) with the blade from her safety razor and thought this would be far safer!  Later my bathroom would host a plethora of pumice stones, metal files and paddles all with the understanding that, in doing this for myself, I was promoting my optimal overall health reflexology-foot-chartthrough reflexology and the Eastern pressure points but, oh, to have your husband love your feet and treat you like a goddess – nothing compares! Nothing! Nope, sorry $60 pedicures by highly competent technicians are nice – but their efforts are a task to be completed not a sensuous path with an end result of making love.

So, yes, without lusting for him, without even my mentally violating his vows I can express that my ex gave “great feet”!

ImageHe brought me a small bag of AA batteries I asked for, along with a bottle of Bowmore Scotch (bliss)  – I am sure he thought I needed the batteries for flashlights and smoke alarms (he’s practical that way, always has been) but no – I needed two of them for my new Emjoi! OMG, this thing is a miracle! So, while there is something to be said for a partner taking care of your whole being right down to your pinkie toes in the absence of such being able to slide into bed and think “wow, my feet are as soft as my sheets!” is real DIY bliss.  Now, if I could just find someone willing to let me snuggle my icy colds against their thermonuclear furnace of a body my life would be very nearly perfect!

If you enjoy my blog please considering ‘buying me a cup of tea’ in your currency via PayPal to livelikeadog@gmail.com and do share it with your friends on Facebook, Google+ and Twitter – I am @TeresaFritschiTo order my print or ebook from Amazon, please click on the cover art of my book, ebook also available through Barnes & Noble and Lulu, thank you!