"I have seen much, heard more and I show a few chips. Life has taught me to be resilient, shown me much. Sure, I no longer look like the day I emerged from the kiln, back in the 1950's, in New Lynn. I was part of a gift, a member of a set ... my family.
I watched my new family grow. I observed their lives, as they grew. I saw their tears when sadness or anger ruled. I watched them laugh, play and yes, disagree with one another.
Sometimes they took me on picnics or gatherings of other families. I saw a mountain, rivers, lakes and black-sand beaches. I heard laughter, as little ones hopped on one foot, then the other as the sand made it's sun-heated warmth just a little too much. I watched the children fall asleep, finally giving my human parents a break from the constant noises of youth.
I cried when I was taken from the green fields of Taranaki, away from my Maunga, the snow-capped perfect peak that is Taranaki/Egmont. I was bound for the city of my birth ... Auckland.
My life became no less hectic. The children grew and some moved away. Still, I was a crucible for the same old and tried foods: Mashed potatoes, puddings, fruit salad; nothing unusual ... just nourishing basic fare.
I travelled to Hastings, Hamilton and twice back to New Plymouth. Then, I was given to the fourth child. My brothers and sisters from the set had died, broken and discarded. I SURVIVED, with a little discolouration and a chip.
I became the focus of experimentation, new foods, weird and exotic: Spices, herbs and dinner parties. Wine stood by my side along with the laughter and tears of those around me. My new owner never left me for long in the cupboards. There was always something new to hold and give to new friends. I survived several moves.
Now ... I live in Thames. I live a quieter life. I am often licked by a hungry Jack Russell, who loves to clean me before I swim in the sink. Whilst other dishes in the cupboard crack and are discarded, my owner keeps me, chip and all. I am part of a smaller family. I shall not be cast away. I am Crown Lynn. My story goes on ... and on ...
I watched my new family grow. I observed their lives, as they grew. I saw their tears when sadness or anger ruled. I watched them laugh, play and yes, disagree with one another.
Sometimes they took me on picnics or gatherings of other families. I saw a mountain, rivers, lakes and black-sand beaches. I heard laughter, as little ones hopped on one foot, then the other as the sand made it's sun-heated warmth just a little too much. I watched the children fall asleep, finally giving my human parents a break from the constant noises of youth.
I cried when I was taken from the green fields of Taranaki, away from my Maunga, the snow-capped perfect peak that is Taranaki/Egmont. I was bound for the city of my birth ... Auckland.
My life became no less hectic. The children grew and some moved away. Still, I was a crucible for the same old and tried foods: Mashed potatoes, puddings, fruit salad; nothing unusual ... just nourishing basic fare.
I travelled to Hastings, Hamilton and twice back to New Plymouth. Then, I was given to the fourth child. My brothers and sisters from the set had died, broken and discarded. I SURVIVED, with a little discolouration and a chip.
I became the focus of experimentation, new foods, weird and exotic: Spices, herbs and dinner parties. Wine stood by my side along with the laughter and tears of those around me. My new owner never left me for long in the cupboards. There was always something new to hold and give to new friends. I survived several moves.
Now ... I live in Thames. I live a quieter life. I am often licked by a hungry Jack Russell, who loves to clean me before I swim in the sink. Whilst other dishes in the cupboard crack and are discarded, my owner keeps me, chip and all. I am part of a smaller family. I shall not be cast away. I am Crown Lynn. My story goes on ... and on ...
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