Laura had a friend for tea today, Savannah, she's a nice kid and well behaved; polite and good natured. They came home from school and went to play in Laura's room then came down for their tea. After tea they started playing with a huge exercise ball Nik won in a raffle at work last week. They were bouncing on it like a space-hopper, had to be told a couple of times to keep away from the telly but they were having fun.
Now, to set the scene. In my hall, at the bottom of the stairs, I have a glass-fronted display cabinet. Inside is my collection of crystal ornaments, some small vintage silver items left to me by my aunt, her 1920s (but cracked) coffee set, my mum's silver-plated tea service and a few china items.
After a relatively quiet period, as Nik cleared the tea table and I tidied the kitchen, there was, suddenly, the most almighty CRASH from the hall. My heart sank as I imagined my display cabinet smashed and we both ran to see what had happened. The cabinet was still in situ, untouched. The crash was my brass oil lamp, which sat atop the cabinet, and which now lay on the hall carpet with its shade and chimney shattered. Savannah had followed Laura (who had, actually, gone to the loo) up the stairs carrying the big ball and had dropped it.
I couldn't speak. My husband had bought me that lamp in 1974 and, though that might seem a trifle, just about everything else he had bought me as a personal gift was stolen when I was burgled a year after he died. I just stood there feeling angry and empty and left Nik to clean up the mess.
After about half an hour I called the girls, who were in Laura's room feeling terrible, and told them I knew it was an accident and I didn't blame either of them. I felt sorry for poor Savannah; how awful to go to your friend's house and damage something, poor kid. I explained that I had been very upset but I was not cross, just unhappy.
I'm now bidding for an identical white glass shade on ebay. There isn't a corresponding chimney for sale, yet, but I shall keep an eye open. I doubt I'll ever use the lamp again, as a means of lighting, but it's an attractive item and, of course, it's a link with Colin. Fingers crossed my bid is accepted.
Now, to set the scene. In my hall, at the bottom of the stairs, I have a glass-fronted display cabinet. Inside is my collection of crystal ornaments, some small vintage silver items left to me by my aunt, her 1920s (but cracked) coffee set, my mum's silver-plated tea service and a few china items.
After a relatively quiet period, as Nik cleared the tea table and I tidied the kitchen, there was, suddenly, the most almighty CRASH from the hall. My heart sank as I imagined my display cabinet smashed and we both ran to see what had happened. The cabinet was still in situ, untouched. The crash was my brass oil lamp, which sat atop the cabinet, and which now lay on the hall carpet with its shade and chimney shattered. Savannah had followed Laura (who had, actually, gone to the loo) up the stairs carrying the big ball and had dropped it.
I couldn't speak. My husband had bought me that lamp in 1974 and, though that might seem a trifle, just about everything else he had bought me as a personal gift was stolen when I was burgled a year after he died. I just stood there feeling angry and empty and left Nik to clean up the mess.
After about half an hour I called the girls, who were in Laura's room feeling terrible, and told them I knew it was an accident and I didn't blame either of them. I felt sorry for poor Savannah; how awful to go to your friend's house and damage something, poor kid. I explained that I had been very upset but I was not cross, just unhappy.
I'm now bidding for an identical white glass shade on ebay. There isn't a corresponding chimney for sale, yet, but I shall keep an eye open. I doubt I'll ever use the lamp again, as a means of lighting, but it's an attractive item and, of course, it's a link with Colin. Fingers crossed my bid is accepted.
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