We’re in that in-between time here in the Hudson Valley. It looks like the worst of winter is gone. It’s slowly getting warmer. But the landscape looks bleak.
It will be a few weeks before I can begin cleaning up the garden beds; that leaf mulch needs to stay there a bit longer to protect the plants. The waiting game has begun.
But I’m sure happy that winter seems to be on the way out the door!
More egg cups. It’s so hard to get a good photo of this little shelf that I found years ago in an antique shop. It hangs on a wall in the den, between two windows. There’s a table and lamp in front of it. And it gets very dark in that corner. Thank goodness for photo editing options!
Full transparency: this little shelf holds some of my favorite egg cups.
On the top shelf – One of my largest egg cups, a guy with a top hat. The head is a salter and is lifted out to access the egg cup. This would have been one of a pair of egg cups, one for salt and one for pepper. I suspect the little cherub next to it is really a toothpick holder, but I have made it an honorary egg cup because it’s so adorable. Then there’s Humpty Dumpty, with an egg that Don brought back from Prague serving as his crown.
Middle shelf – One of my favorites, the bunny artist painting the egg. (Middle-of-the night bidding war.) Next, a pig getting ready to dine on an egg (made for Tiffany). And then, one of my 1939 Walt Disney dwarfs, Grumpy.
Bottom shelf – Three more dwarfs: Dopey, Doc, and Bashful. And some little wooden ducks/chicks that I found in an antique shop several years ago.
The search for the remaining three dwarfs and Snow White is ongoing. It’s taken me 16 years to collect the four that I have!
In other news…Don told me the ‘critic’ from the New York Times got so much backlash about his/her review of Escape to Margaritaville, that he/she felt compelled to write an op-ed defending the review. I don’t mind saying that I laughed gleefully when I heard that bit of news. It’s alright not to like something. We don’t all agree. But to write in a mean-spirited manner, to make it personal? That’s not what a respected critic does. That’s not what anyone who calls themselves a critic should do.
I cancelled my subscription over this one. I was already on the fence about it, due to all the “Hillary’s emails” crap they published leading up to the election, but this sent me over the edge. Bye bye, New York Times. And that sorry excuse for a critic can kiss my tush.
Happy Wednesday.