Years ago I read an article that has stuck with me. If you know me at all, you’ll realize how profound this statement truly is. I mean, I have to look up my own phone number most of the time.
But this article was written by a couple of wine experts who wanted people to celebrate Open That Bottle Night. They were advocating for people to quit saving bottles of wine for special occasions.
The occasions never seem to be special enough, so the bottles just sit. They want you to open the wine, recall the reasons … the memories … the special events you saved it for in the first place.
Their most important tip—be sure to have a back-up bottle in case yours has turned to vinegar. That could really put a damper on the festivities.
I really like this idea because, it can apply to other things as well.
I’ve started to use the teapot I bought in Winchester, England when I was a student there. It was crazy of 20-year-old me to think I could cart home a teapot, four cups and saucers and expect them to remain unshattered. But I was blessed with the optimism of youth. And sturdy luggage.
My teapot has always had a prominent place in the house, but for years I just glanced at it occasionally, reaching past it for some other kitchen gadget. I worried about breaking it and set it up high in the hutch thirty-some years ago when we started having kids.
But the first of these kids—I’ll call her “my daughter”—spent a semester in London when she was in college and took a day trip full of perfect coincidence and charming serendipity to Winchester, to see this magical town where her parents lived for a short time, but talk about constantly.
Because of her trip, we were back in touch with a zillion old Chapman College (now Chapman University) pals and seeing oodles of amusing photos from that time. Halloween costumes, unfortunate hair, shiny grins with a mouth full of metal. Ah, good times.
Anyway, memories keep flooding back. One was how my American roommate, Leslie, would put 20-pence on the porch of our house in Winchester before she went to bed and magically, in the morning there would be a bottle of milk waiting for her. We’d use the cream at the top in our tea, and she’d drink the rest. It was the beginning of my long friendship with tea.
I noticed my teapot recently and stopped what I was doing to make a pot of tea, savoring both the warmth in my cup and the warmth of those days gone by.
Why do I have to be reminded to get reacquainted with my teapot?
As of this minute I am launching What Are You Waiting For Day. To be celebrated whenever, wherever, and with whomever you want. The more often, the better!
Life is short—you never know what tomorrow will bring. Live your life … enjoy your special things … eat your hot dogs off Grandma’s china tonight … take that quilt off the wall and wrap up in it while you read to the kids … use a different spoon from your State Parks Spoon Collection to stir your coffee every day.
But remember where you got it and why you saved it.
What are your special things? How will you start celebrating What Are You Waiting For Day?