It's Midnight, Cinderella ...

Ever have one of those days where you feel like you're living in a dream?

Me too. Today.

Only this dream was rushed, tumbling over itself with serving and dishes and plating food and ensuring that people who had had to wait for far too long to be served were okay.

I must have the most forgiving guests in the TH! Everyone was patient with us and appreciative of the food and the atmosphere.

Yet, by the time it was all over, I felt anxious and like my insides were fluttery and weak. I realized that I had eaten one cherry tomato and drank one cup of water and half a cup of tea that entire day.

Don and Norma came by shortly before 10 pm to bail the girls out. They had worked for the past five hours without stopping once and they needed to get home. Don scrubbed all the pots and pans and got the cutlery into the dishwasher holder. I dried and put them away. Then Norma and I did china - we had had no opportunity all day to do either china or silverware!

I washed; Norma dried; I put away.

I had arranged and filled half the shelves of the Wall of Great China when suddenly, as I went to put the next cup and saucer in their place, I felt utterly shaky. The cup I was holding slipped out of my hands and bumped the next cup and saucer. Dominoes, I thought, shrieking softly and plastering myself up against the Wall. Don, who was nearby, also sprang forward and caught a couple of cups before they hit the floor.

When everything settled and the rest of the cups were in place and the china fragments swept up, we observed that I had managed to break four cups in that little moment ...

The three of us peeled potatoes after that. Then they headed for home with promises of help tomorrow. I glanced at the clock on the stove. It was 12:01.

My hands were roughened and crisscrossed with tiny needles of pain wherever the bleach water had snuck into little scratches and nicks on them. My feet were sore and swollen. No glass slippers were ever going to fit them tonight!

Feeling disjointed and mortified, I peeked through the blinds and saw Franz the Schubert cherry and the Josh Tree bedecked for the season. 

If I squinted my eyes a bit, there they were dancing!

Just seeing them there lifted my spirits. And then, as I came back inside I cast my eyes toward the glorious amaryllis that Cathryn had brought to the TH on Wednesday evening. In three short days it boasted five exquisite blooms.

It stands in the light and warmth of two TH treasures: the first is a lamp whose lampshade is made up of found glass from a beach in British Columbia.

The second, of course, is more beauty from the genius of Marcia Hinds. This one is directly on point - such beauty from the staff favourite tea cup that had been broken previously! 

I decided to call it a night and drag my weary self upstairs. But with the trees and the blossoms to remind me of the magic that is the TH, I am once again grateful that I was here, today.

Tomorrow's a fresh start!