Red with white hearts, very seventies, there use to be three but one, the middle one, lost its handle and then its spout. They are just a couple of jugs but to me they are a little bit more. They remind me of growing up in Dublin, of red and white cherry wallpaper in the kitchen and eating porridge at the breakfast table with my sister. They remind me of afternoons in the back garden, drinking cold tea from glasses held between dirty hands. They remind me of family dinners of spaghetti and if we were lucky some wobbly jelly for desert. Two jugs that symbolize the nostalgia of my childhood.