As a child in England, I never visited any family homes where tea was poured into anything other than dainty china cups and saucers. All part of a matching tea set, including tea pot, sugar bowl and milk jug. We have all seen knitted or padded tea cosies made and sold in craft shops or fetes, which are used to keep the pot warm for the second cup.

My mother, no matter how desperate she was for a cuppa while waiting at train stations in Birmingham, refused to drink tea from their thick-rimmed cups and saucers. Well, they do say love changes everything, and when she married my step dad he told her the tea used on Snowhill Station was far superior to any other railway station. To please him, after examining the cup for cracks or chips, and with a grin and bear it expression, she accepted the cup of tea he bought for her.

From memory, mugs were not introduced into shops or seen in family homes for many years to come. Once they were, however, their popularity was overwhelming. Mugs of beautiful designs — country scenes and cute animals — persuaded people to buy.

At our family get-togethers the choice of mugs became a problem. Everyone had their favourites, so there was a great deal of, ‘I always use that one’, and ‘No, that one’s mine, choose another.’

To solve the problem I had a brilliant idea: buy each child a mug designed with their personal zodiac sign. My brilliance was short-lived as the family grew in age and number and we had two Capricorns, two Sagittarians and two Pisceans. My brain went into melt-down, so I left them to sort the mugs out for themselves. I must add that Steven, being the most practical of my children, said, ‘Mum, if all the mugs were the same design, you could put our names on the bottom of our chosen mug and …problem solved.’

To be fair, I must admit to my own peculiarity where mugs are concerned. As my family knows, I have breakfast tea in the morning, and mint tea, camomile or green tea during the day. Fine, you might say but my fetish is to avoid different tea flavours, which may or may not contaminate the mug; I prefer a different mug for each one. Unfortunately, only I can remember which mug is used for which tea!

No doubt having respect for my age, my children, when visiting, now kindly ask which tea I would like and which mug to use. Perhaps they simply notice me keeping a close eye on whoever is making the tea and which mug they take from the cupboard. Steven’s thoughts are probably, Put the name of the tea on the mug, Mum. Problem solved!

Previous
Previous

A child at war in Britain, 1942

Next
Next

Dawn