[illustration of teapot, but not the one I owned]

There once was a simple cream teapot at a craft stall in local Lydney. It was dying to be noticed amongst other gorgeously inspiring hand-decorated items that no retro home should do without. There were bird-shaped felt decorations, and Victorian clothes pegs meticulously painted to depict figurines, and lavish lampshades, amongst other things.

Yet, this was no ordinary teapot. This one had been precisely and lovingly hand-stamped with three equidistant rings of hearts, polka dots, and swirls. These were painted in subdued 50s-inspired greens and scrumptious pinks. Its spout had been painted green to match, and if you looked carefully, you could make out the delicate vertical swooshes of an artist’s brush.

This decent-sized teapot virtually screamed out “Buy me – you know I would complement your Knit Club gatherings and complete your Sunday experience!”. Once I dared ask how much it was, I could not believe my ears when I heard: “Three fifty.” – Surely not £ 3.50? Didn’t this really mean three hundred and fifty?

I hastily spent my last pennies and retreated before anyone changed their minds. What a find. Once I tried out this special teapot, she definitely had character with her dribbly spout, and I wondered if I’d been had.

Fast forward three years….

And I still loved her pot-bellied creaminess, ringed with retro stamped artiness; the homely clunk of her lid dropping in to place; the steady stream of dark clearness trickling twistedly into each empty cuppa in turn; using my tea cosy to mop upwards from base to spout-tip… Having to wipe up that small puddle that inevitably appears in its wake.

Why tell you this now? Well as a resourceful person who hates to see beautiful things go to waste, I recently had to decide on its fate after it developed a hairline crack down its side.

Stay {and recycle into a mosaic occasional table-top}
or
Go {to landfill, and effectively give up on its new lease of life}?
to be continued…