As a toddler, my divorced mother and I lived with my Grandmother "Mama" Ruby, Granddaddy George and my Uncle Bobby (my mother's only sibling) in downtown Savannah. Someone else in our household on a daily basis was our maid, Janie. I loved Janie to death, especially when she would dress me in pretty little pastel pinafores and we'd go walking, sometimes to the corner confectionary, sometimes to the park, sometimes to the drugstore, but always hand in hand. Janie had been with Mama Ruby for several years and they appeared to be friends as well as employer and empoyee. I remember seeing them sitting on the back porch during a break from cleaning or doing the laundry, sharing a cup of coffee and talking about their respective families while I nearby. Among my favorite possessions was an aluminum set that included a coffee pot, plates, saucers and cups along with knives, forks and spoons. I would place my dolls and teddy bears at a small table, set the table and we'd pretend for hours, using water in my little pot. When I played with it outdoors, I'd "set a table" on the stairs, and Mama Ruby and Janie would smile at me and always made smacking sounds when they drank the water from the small cups I handed to each of them. Janie would say: My, my child… that's some good coffee, because I always told them it was coffee I was serving. The coffee pot actually had a glass top and the insert for coffee grounds and looked so much like my Mama Ruby's coffee pot, I was convinced coffee could be made in it. This photo of a vintage set doesn't show the glass top or the insides, but otherwise, it's pretty darn close to the one I had. Being a presistant little toddler, one day I asked Mama Ruby to make me some coffee in my very own pot. She and Janie looked at each other, and without a word, they both shooed me out of the kitchen, telling me they'd call me when they were ready.