Oh, well.  What the hell. It’s done, I can’t change it, and it’s not that big a deal.

I just want a place to write about glass, discuss glass, show photos of glass, and this is it.

My passion for glass began when I became fascinated as a little girl by my mother’s green Depression glass sherbet cups, given to her by “the sweet little colored lady” who lived down the road from her as a wedding present when she and my father eloped to Dillon SC and got married at the ripe old age of 18.  (My mama was still in high school.)  Not only was I taken by the beauty of the green glass with it’s block optic pattern, but I was captured by its story as well. My mother was certain that these were treasured items that this poverty sticken elderly woman had cherished for years, but was willing to part with in order to bestow a gift to bless the union that so many thought was doomed to failure from the start.  “They’re just children…”  “She must be pregnant…”  “It will never last…”

52 years later, my parents are still happily married, and still have in their possession of priceless treasures these beautiful little sherbet glasses. 

And then, there were my grandmother’s pink “sprocket” plates, as she called them.  They were actually pink Miss America salad plates, but I remember eating lunchtime sandwiches, cottage cheese, and crisp dill pickle spears off of them whenever we would visit Granny and Papa.  Granny promised that some day those plates would be mine, and now that she has passed from this life to the next, they are.

If glass is prized enough to be handed down from one generation to the next, there is something mesmerizing about it, something that has to be discovered.

A story that has to be told.