The Jug – Loving Ourselves Enough
April 22, 2010 by Janice Hunter
Filed under Kitchen Table Space
The only difference between an extraordinary life and an ordinary one is the extraordinary pleasures you find in ordinary things.
~ Veronique Vienne
I stood at the kitchen sink, robotically washing dishes. I paused, my gaze landing on a hand-painted jug on the window ledge, raindrops running down the glass. I clung to the sink with soapy hands, hunched forward, eyes clenched shut, terrified that I might miss another deadline, that I’d never have another moment of revelation, the inspiration that flows in and fills me up then spills over into my writing and my online coaching.
Washed out and weary, worried about money, unable to capture moments of fleeting inspiration as they flit and dance through my day, just out of reach, I stood, suds dripping, tears running down my face.
A quick wipe with the back of my hand, all traces gone, I picked up a tea towel and started to dry the dishes. Plates, bowls and jugs from our years in Greece and Portugal, all different sizes, shapes and designs. I looked again at the small jug on the window ledge. Cobalt blue and bottle green, ringed in bands of yellow and rusty red hearts. Sometimes I use it for flowers; most often, it stays empty, reminding me to be present, to stay open to inspiration and abundance. I looked down at the draining board and suddenly realised that not only do I have a lot of jugs, I seem to have been collecting and cherishing them all my life.
There’s a porcelain one from Portugal, hand-painted with deer and flowers which we only use for gravy on feast days and holidays. There’s a little pastel-coloured striped one with a flat bottom that’s used for milk when we have visitors; it’s the kind a sailor’s wife would keep on her window ledge, filled with snowdrops. A round-bellied classic white jug for water. A sturdy terracotta one decorated with a blue glaze and white slip. A spout-less pink tin cylinder for Greek retsina. An elegant, clear glass bottle with a gem-blue glass stopper that I use on warm days to keep water cold in the fridge.
Pencils in a chipped, speckled stoneware jug. A spider plant in a blue teapot. I rushed to the dining room and stared at what I now saw was a collection in my cabinet, in among all the other mismatched crockery. There, in pride of place, a single-setting tea service with sugar bowl and milk jug, painted decades ago by my mum’s elderly cousin, the artist who never married after her fiancé died in World War Two. We used to give my mum breakfast in bed every year on Mother’s Day, the tea tray laid with an embroidered cloth and those same dishes.
I remembered my grandmother pouring milk from a blue and white pitcher and friends’ birthday parties with ice cream and jelly and always large glass jugs of sparkling lemonade and orange juice. Always a woman somewhere, carrying a jug, offering something, pouring something.
All of my jugs are beautiful. Like us, they’re all unique and chosen, loved and special for something. They’re not meant to be permanently full; they’re designed to be filled and emptied as they pour. They’re beautiful just as they are, even when all they hold are memories and promise and a little bit of now.
I took the tea towel and lovingly dried and put away my crockery, went into the garden and found a few rain-drenched miniature daffodils and a spray of fragrant white hyacinth to put in my little heart jug at the window.
Sometimes we wait knowingly, patiently, for inspiration to fill us to overflowing. Sometimes, we simply need to love ourselves enough.
Oh Janice, I can relate so much to your story. It never ceases to amaze me, how such relatively small items can mean so much to us, inspiring us, without words, just at the times when we need the wake-up call the most.
I have “accidently” collected teapots for years….isn’t it wonderful?
Janice, such a gorgeous article. This part has particularly moved me to tears! “They’re not meant to be permanently full; they’re designed to be filled and emptied as they pour. They’re beautiful just as they are, even when all they hold are memories and promise and a little bit of now.”
I will simply say – thank you!
I too have a small milk jug that I adore, my mother gave it to me, I remember pouring milk from it as a child, chip and all. Nothing ordinary about it to me. Beautifully written.
pve
Hi Janice .. I love your jugs and I can visualise your jug (but the picture doesn’t show .. perhaps just me or the now – sometimes things happen) .. in its window space ..
As you say we are unique, well worn, chipped, a little cracked or crinkled perhaps .. but we are all special and have so much to offer this world of ours. I ‘rescued’ some jugs from my uncle’s house for flowers to use when I take the vases up to my Ma – I usually have one tall one and one small one for her .. and the pretty jugs make a difference – another perspective for her to see.
I must go to town now and get some new ones for her .. love your story – sad, uplifting and true – believe in ourselves we can survive all things ..
Have a sunny happy weekend .. with hugs – Hilary
Thanks to everyone who’s commented. Sorry about the delay in responding, but I got stuck abroad (without a laptop) when our flight was cancelled because of the volcanic ash.
@Joanne
It won’t surprise you to know I have a few teapots, too! They’re such potent symbols of warmth, cosiness, celebration, friendship, the details that turn homes into living, breathing works of art. My teapots become plant pots when they get too damaged to be hygenic. One of my friends, a doctor, loves that I give her her own wee pot of tea on a tray with an antique tray cloth if she pops in to visit during her lunch break. It’s not much in the big scheme of things, but it makes her feel cherished and helps her catch her breath in the midst of tiring and often traumatic days.
@Dee
Thank you. You have no idea how much pleasure it gives me when a piece of writing recreates the feeling I had when I was writing. That line made me cry, too, when I wrote it. It was one of those moments when the big things met the little things and everything made sense. Now that I’m fifty, I’ve become even more aware of the ebbing and flowing that goes with womanhood and caring for elderly family members as well as children. So easy to get lost if we don’t identify the metaphors and purpose in our lives.
@Pve
I could feel the love you have for that wee jug, for cherished childhood memories and for your mum as I read this. Thank you.
@Hilary
Sorry about the photo. It’s my fault if it doesn’t show for you; I’m not very good at converting photos into blog compatible format. You can see a wee photo of the same jug on the welcome page of my own blog if you’re curious. I’m glad you still have the strength and fortitude to look for ways to brighten up your mum’s day and keep her outlook bright. It’s not easy caring for the elderly when their memories and faculties come and go. Maybe you could get inspired by Joanne’s love of teapots and get your mum a wee flowery one and keep it planted with bulbs or seasonal annuals.
Hi Janice .. not a problem .. & you went away in that pandemonium .. interesting times – but I hope you weren’t too stressed by it all, and it didn’t interrupt you too much or cause too many hassles.
Yes – I take pretty jugs up – but there’s not much room and now she’s not too with it .. also ‘gardening’ even one pot plant is a pain .. as it needs to be watered, fed etc .. fresh flowers are fine, they come and go – though I’ve got hyancinths now for her .. they give off a lovely scent, and I’ve got a back up pot here, which because it’s cooler will flower a little later.
Welcome back .. presumably the warmth will come soon .. at least it’s lighter .. have a good week and thanks for your care and concern .. hugs from the south – Hilary
Hi Janice,
Once again, you grace our pages here with your insight into what it means to be real and full of grace. Thank you.
I was at my sink yesterday, decanting filtered water into bottles to go into the fridge, and I looked at the old battered, slightly crazed blue plastic jug that has been my water jug for years now and decided it was high time I added some beauty! I’m now on the lookout for a water jug that isn’t plastic, and will lift my spirits each and every time I use it. Thank you for the inspiration xxx
@Hilary,
Thanks for the kind thoughts. We flew out before the eruption and had to travel back overland so it actually was a bit of an expensive, nightmare journey back. Luckily, the holiday itself was one of the best spur of the moment cheap breaks we’ve ever had, so I’m focusing on savouring those memories. I’ll be posting about it as soon as I’m fully rested and caught up.
@Karén,
Thanks for always being so understanding and for bringing out the best in me. It’s an honour to have been given a space here and a chance to commune with like-minded folk.
I hope you find the perfect jug just in time to move into your new home so it can symbolise a new phase full of love, happy memories, gratitude and overflowing inspiration!
You write so well, Janice. You have me standing beside you throughout the whole story. Absolutely beautiful.