When I reflected on the concept of guilty pleasures, I should have included dishes in my list of happy obsessions. Dishes thrill me! And saying that, I feel that I am not fully conveying my profound fascination and delight in pretty dishes, bowls, cups, saucers... oh my! I like their shapes, the colors, prints. I like that a dish can be a tiny and functional piece of art. It's satisfying to justify its purchase, when it can be useful. I like changing the mood, the season, the feel of a day with just the right plate or bowl.
For as long as I can remember, I've watched for a set of Christmas dishes. I haven't found them, not yet. But these autumnal flowers, the chrysanthemums, like sea anemones, if they were mine, these would come out every fall, especially for Thanksgiving. I would press a table cloth in their honor. I am imagining a splendid feast, and simple weeknight dinners, when the days grow shorter, and we crave warm gatherings. The egg-shell blue dishes would be set in spring, in time for blossoms and garden teas, in time to lift my spirits with thoughts of new life, and whimsy.
Someday, if I'm not careful, my cupboards, the closets, every shelf and nook, will have a set of dishes, a stash of saucers and cups, and upstairs... nothing but quilts and sheets! Just thinking about it makes me giddy.