Another little bit of her gone.

I am breaking a promise, very unlike me. Nothing personal on Mother & Child and Baby Cakes....I won't, I won't. No people photos, I am still good for that promise. But then I started to think, hey! Drawing and cooking and putting it out there for the whole world to judge is pretty personal to me.

So here I go: My daughter was born under the sign of The Dish. I don't follow signs, don't know what her real sign is or my husband's or my son's for that matter. I know that I am a Leo (in all it's glory, of course) my astrology knowledge ends there. Except for knowing about my daughter, The Dish.

So many lovely baby presents were sent upon her arrival. So many of them were Peter Rabbit china that I just decided to run with it! I mean really, who wouldn't want to be able to serve ten adults on bunny china? At three months of age she was half way there. So here and there we added to it, lugged home cafe au lait bowls and a tea pot from London without a chip!

Bunny china was only the beginning! My best friend started my daughter collecting ruffled edged dishes in both pink and turquoise... lots of those! Time passed and she started her life away from home. By apartment #2 the girl had "inherited" lots of mint green melamine (not sure melamine qualifies as an official inheritance) that stocked the pool house of her great grandmother. Joyfully, soon came a house. Now there was room for the Arzberg porcelain her grandmother collected in the fifties. Is this girl lucky or what? To top it all off...and I do not have this story exactly straight, a gentleman came into her place of business one day with a stack of plates! Old plates honoring the surroundings of her place of work. Yep, some of those became hers too. So you must agree that's a lot of dishes for a girl in her twenties...that girl born under the sign of The Dish.

Peter Rabbit and Mrs. Tiggle-wiggle are headed to their new home tomorrow. Her home. She might not understand why I had to write this, but Mothers everywhere will. Children arrive in mass and basically with their own entourage, but they leave in bits, it hurts.

She'll forgive me. If not, I'm sunk, I need her or this site stops here!
I have come to realize if it's not personal it's not me.