In our house, the holidays often spill into January and February. I consider some of my decorations, like the Dickens Village houses and the Pfaltzgraff winterberry dishes to be as much about winter as they are about Christmas. At least that’s how I rationalize my procrastination to put them away – I simply want to enjoy them a bit longer. But this week we had an unusual spell of warm weather, and I knew it was time. Spring will be knocking on the door soon (I hope!) So we dragged out the boxes and packed everything up until next year. I’m already missing the warm lights of the houses along the windowsill. And this…
The Winterberry Mug
This morning
I wrapped my hand
around the winterberry mug —
that mug with the just-right feel,
that mug that holds the just-right pour of coffee.
Then I packed it away
with the other mugs and dishes—
those dishes with the red and white berries,
those dishes with the painted vines
curled around the edges
like memories curled around my heart.
Until next December,
when once again
I’ll wrap my hand around the winterberry mug,
remembering.
-Draft 2022 Rose Cappelli
Linda has the poetry roundup today at Teacher Dance. Head over there for a sweet celebration for Valentine’s Day and lots more poetry goodness.
Imagine the Possibilities 
Yes, I know what you mean! The weather turns warm and you start eyeing your winter decorations (even though it is supposed to snow here in a couple of days). “Winterberry” is a lovely name — I just looked it up and it is an actual plant! You probably already knew.
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Thanks. Yes, I have winterberry bushes in my yard for the bluebirds.
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Lovely poem, reflective but not overly sentimental. I like your idea of extending the holidays with special things.
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Sigh, I do love getting out those holiday things, Rose. It’s a sweet poem of remembering until they come again. I love that you wrote about it. Many homes here in Denver still have their lights up, seems as if they just cannot give them up. Beautiful line here: “memories curled around my heart’. And my daughter-in-law has those Dickens Village houses, so pretty and adds to the holiday cheer! Thanks!
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I really like how your poem echoes the embrace of your “hand wrapped around the cup” later with “memories curled around my heart”. And winterberry is a wonderful word and plant, isn’t it? I tried to find some at our nursery last year, but they were sold out. You’ve reminded me to try again.
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Winterberry is sometimes hard to find. Several years ago I purched some online. They were mere sticks when they arrived, but somehow survived. It took quite a few years before they bore berries, but this year they were in abundance – and the bluebirds found them.
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That “just rightness” of your holiday dishes make them even more special. I love how much we love things like that. Holidays are about so much more than the day…the just rightness of a winterberry mug is a perfect thing to look forward to. A wonderful poem. Now I need to go search winterberry!
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It was 68* here yesterday and the later-ness of the sun is noticeable–and so just this morning I took the window candles down and will pack them away along with all the other winterish things. Those treasured things are so meaningful; I’m working on making them fewer!
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Working on the fewer thing too! Thanks for reading.
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Your words flow so beautifully like memories curled around your heart, Rose. I am celebrating winter and Valentine’s Day so some of my collection is out to make the house cozy with lights and memories.
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A mug with a just-right feel is one of those unsung pleasures! Thanks for singing it! Ruth, thereisnosuchthingasagodforsakentown.blogspot.com
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I just tucked the Christmas tree pillow I embroidered into the Christmas box downstairs. I miss it, but soon I will forget it, and then there will be a fun surprise next winter when I open that box! Here’s to all the treasures that wait for their time…and for us!
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Oh Rose! I share your attachment to the tug of a mug on my heart. Sometimes it’s a real decision in the morning to gaze at my handful of coffee mugs and listen for which one is calling me! How fun to just say “the winterberry mug” — but I especially enjoy the repeating “that mug…those dishes” — the reverberation remains.
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Rose, I was with you in this poem, holding the mug, packing it away, thinking about next Christmas. It’s a story of our lives.
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Like memories curled around my heart…..beautiful and I totally get all of this, Rose. I love my little village (not that little) but did not put it up this year. I may be a contrarian and put it up now awaiting the summer visit of the grandkids who adored my snow scene which I left up that year for them. Christmas in July perhaps and then decorate with lots of springtime color!!! I am looking forward to changing my house around and moving paintings etc. Sprucing up but not a major re-do.
Cheers to you!
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Thanks, Janet. Christmas in July sounds perfect!
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