Sentimental Saturday: Tea Tin

Twelve years ago, I spent the summer studying at St. John’s College in Oxford. For the first time, I lived alone (if you don’t count the other women who lived in my hall and shared a bathroom). I enjoyed the freedom, the intellectual stimulation, the opportunity to explore at my own pace.

One of the souveniers I brought home to remind me of the morning coffee (I always took tea, not coffee) offered between classes was a tin of Whittard’s Oxford tea. The fall after I returned to New York, I savored the tea until I sipped the last cup. When a tea tin has pretty paper with images of dreaming spires on it, well, what can a girl do but use it on her desk?

Now, rather than refreshing tea (“…for gentle punting…”), the tin holds dpns and spindles at easy reach on my desk. When I take a longer look at it, I can almost hear the bells of Oxford, smell the broom that I passed each day, taste the morning tea, see the golden Cotswold stone.

What place makes you sentimental? Feel free to share your story in the comments or post it on your blog and leave a link here.