elephant tender_square “the teapot wasn’t supposed to go along with this stuff, but i’m giving it to you,” her friend revealed. “are you sure? i don’t want to take it if it was something you were planning to hold onto!” “better your house than ours!” her friend’s husband assured. her friend had completed a decluttering challenge, filled a box with drinkware she no longer needed and snapped pictures to show what she was planning to donate. “oooooh! can i have that tea cup and tea pot combination?” she thought the set would be perfect for writing at her desk. “and what are those ceramic elephant things?” “it’s a creamer and sugar set. of course! i will put them aside for you.” standing in the kitchen of her new house, she unboxed the delicate pieces. her friend had also given her a large, cream elephant tea pot with two little drink cups in the shape of elephant feet. “when i come over in the future, we can drink from the tea set,” her friend assured her. “i want you to have them.” she loved the promise of being together, of sharing tea and homemade cookies and conversation. “deal.” the following morning, she hand-washed her new wares in the sink and realized her friend had given her a symbol she’d been drawing strength from for months: a wild and majestic creature that strolled the savanna and moved in herds, social and attentive, daring to take up space. 220130 ... tender_square her friend later gifted her a wall hanging she'd bought on a trip to grand bend and never found a suitable place for. it was a big hunk of driftwood slab. a skilled carver bore a scene of two loving elephants following one another beneath the crown of a curatella. the scene was painted black and textured with gouges. the wood frame curved along grains, movement encapsulating moment, stained spice. the recipient hung it near the entrance of her bathroom. 230110 what's it to you? who go blather from