Waxing poetic

Our Path

The path we chose was a fine one -

One without much risk, with the promise of sweetness along the way.

But then He whispered, “I have a new course for you,”

And the plan changed.

I wondered, briefly, if we were prepared for a different sort of journey,

But beauty and love at first sight left no ground for weeds of worry to take hold.

We knew.

And so we put our feet on the new path.

We were seasoned travelers, after all.

And the path was lovely and vibrant, surprisingly much like others already taken.

Confidence soared.

We began to wonder why so many avoid this way.

We enjoyed the scenery.

We praised ourselves for listening.

We smiled.

And the stray vines that sometimes crossed our lane went unregarded.

Our stroll continued in relative peace,

But I took note of subtle changes in the atmosphere.

Was it darkening?

My love seemed unaware of any difference.

On we walked, unease growing within me.

I was sure now –

Color was fading and grey was creeping in.

“We’re in for rain,” my love predicted, so innocently.

“Into each life some rain must fall,” Longfellow chastened.

But it seemed to be raining so often now. 

And I noticed that the ivy tendrils, well watered by the rains,

Sometimes caught about our ankles  - and were they pulling?

And just like that,

The clouds broke and the sun BEAMED.

We filled our lungs with perfumed air and I filled my heart with hope.

“Behind the clouds is the sun still shining,” Longfellow encouraged.

My love chided me.

It was only a little rain – nothing to worry about.

So I relaxed a bit, and laughed at myself. 

How very silly I was.

Foliage brightened and spread before our eyes. 

Birds chirped their secret messages.

My love grasped my hand with a gentle squeeze,

And on we pressed, enveloped in warm sunlight. 

The sweet smells and soft sounds and golden light were opiates to my soul

And prevented me from sensing any danger.

(Never again - my lesson learned!)

So he noticed it first this time.

“How quickly those storm clouds are gathering!” he marveled,

And I gasped as the sky darkened dramatically before our eyes.

“But the weather was perfect just moments ago.  Where was the warning?” I demanded.

A knot in my stomach tightened, and I thought I saw worry on my love’s face.

In an instant, we were drowning in a deluge.

We reached madly for a handhold, barely able to see for the downpour.

And in our struggle to keep ourselves upright and out of the mire,

Our clasped hands were torn apart.

From the place I’d fallen,

I could just make out ringlets of green encircling my love’s ankles.

I realized with horror that I, too, was ensnared.

Those vines, so innocuous in appearance, were pulling us apart.

We kicked and heaved and clambered, we reached and stretched and writhed. 

The grip of the tendrils tightened.

How could something so fresh and beautiful and sweet to the eyes be so cruel?

We felt the force on that path would utterly consume us.

Somehow, even in our struggle, understanding and clarity bathed our minds -

A gift from Him.

We were fiercely despised and desperately loved. insignificant and essential,

Resented and wanted, blamed and accepted, useless and needed beyond expression.

And so we learned quickly to tread very lightly on this path –

Our survival depends on it.

There exists a delicate balance,

Exhausting to maintain and punishing when disturbed.

The weather continues to change without warning -

prediction and preparation useless implements in our tiny toolbox.

But understanding and insight buoy us during flash floods,

And presence and love increasingly calm the raging storms when they come.

My love and I hold fast to each other now, and never let go.

The rainy path is hard to travel, but I know it’s our path.

That sustains me.

And today, at least, the sun is shining brightly. 

Goodbye, Aunt Joyce

My sweet great-aunt Joyce passed away a couple of days ago, just 6 days after her sister, Mary Groutage.  She would have been 97 on April 1st, and although I know she wanted more than anything to "go home" to her family, I will miss her very much.  I am planning to go to Utah for her funeral.

Here is her obituary:

J. Joyce Peterson
WASHINGTON TERRACE – Our sweet Aunt Joyce got an early birthday present and passed away peacefully Friday, March 25, 2011, at the age of 96.
Aunt Joyce was born on April 1, 1914 in Glencoe, Wyoming to Jesse Y. and Martha Purdy Peterson. Joyce was the oldest of seven children, two of whom died in infancy.
Aunt Joyce graduated from Kemmerer High School and then moved to Ogden to be near her brother John (Jack) who was attending the Utah School for the Deaf and Blind. While here in Utah, she attended the Salt Lake Business College. Joyce was awarded the “Fastest Typist” award, and throughout her life always used her typewriter, never converting over to computers.
Aunt Joyce worked as a secretary at Globe Mills, and then worked and later retired from Hill Air Force Base.
Aunt Joyce was a faithful member of, and loved being part of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
She was a long-time member of the Daughters of Utah Pioneers and the Ogden Association of the Blind.
Aunt Joyce never had children of her own, but she was a loving aunt to twelve nieces and nephews as well as many great-and great-great nieces and nephews and their spouses. As our aunt, she took this role very seriously and could always be counted on for a birthday call or a kind word. Aunt Joyce had a great sense of family duty and provided tender love to us all. She was wonderful at bringing people together.
Aunt Joyce had a very sharp mind and could recall dates, names and details with ease. She loved dancing, traveling, and playing the piano for 92 years.
Aunt Joyce is survived by her brother Dean (Mimi) Peterson of Washington, Utah and many nieces and nephews.
She was preceded in death by her siblings, Kendall Peterson, John Peterson, and Mary Peterson Groutage.
Funeral services will be held Saturday, April 2nd at 11 a.m. at Lindquist’s Ogden Mortuary, 3408 Washington Blvd.
Family will greet friends Saturday morning at the mortuary from 9:30 to 10:45 a.m.
Interment to follow in Diamondville, Wyoming.
Aunt Joyce’s family would like to thank the countless people who have shown kindness to her throughout her life.
In lieu of flowers, we ask that you do a kind deed for someone. Aunt Joyce will certainly be missed and will always be cherished. Aunt Joyce, Love Ya!!

Le Menu (March 27 - April 2)

I'm especially looking forward to the steak and mango salad and the salmon.  But if you make the salmon, please don't do what I did and buy $25 worth of wild caught salmon, stash it in the garage freezer, and then forget to shut the freezer door.  Because when you go back to a different store to replace the salmon your freezer lightbulb literally cooked, you'll actually have to spend $30 to get the same quantity you had before.  Not to mention the tragic ice cream loss you've suffered after stocking up on $2/carton Dryers....

Oh, and I should mention that Monday-Thursday's recipes come from "Our Best Bites: Mormon Moms in the Kitchen" cookbook.  We're required to give credit where credit is due, or we get excommunicated.  ;oP

Click on "read more" to see the recipes.  Come on.  You know you want to.  :o)

Prom

My sweetie, J1, with his sweetie, M.  It's hard to believe this is the last prom for him, and that there are a mere 2 months left of his high school career.  Sigh.

Happy 9th birthday, M!

M's birthday was the day we were in the city for our anniversary, so her celebration was spread out over a few days.  She opened presents the night we got back, had her birthday cake on Monday, and her bowling birthday party with friends tonight.  She wasn't too thrilled about having to do things this way, but she handled it pretty well.  She is nine now, after all.

We managed to forget the camera for her bowling party.  :o(

Just a few green-with-jealousy monsters

And this is before she realized there was money in there!

When your kitchen is in disarray, the bathroom is as good a place
as any for birthday cake.  ;o)

Success!

Buster

My Buster is 11 and he has diabetes.  The vet told us yesterday that if we want to do "something," we will need to give him insulin injections each day.  If we don't want to do "something," we don't know how much time we have left.

I am not ready for this.

Anniversary loot

For him, an odd assortment of goodies:

Razor scooter charger as the scooter is his intended
 mode of commuting to work this spring

Gratuitous violence

Sustenance

Sustenance baker

For me, kitchen goodies:

Another coveted cookbook

Elsmore & Forster compote

Le Menu (March 20-26)

Since M's birthday was yesterday, she got to pick our Sunday meal this week.  She said "I love Indian food!" and then, a split second later she asked, "Wait - what's Indian food again?"  Funny girl.  I reminded her it's what we eat with naan and Basmati rice, and then she was certain she wanted Indian food.  ;o)

The irony is that Tikka Masala isn't really Indian, but Indian-British - kind of in the way that "chop suey" and fortune cookies are really American inventions.  Chop suey probably came to be in San Francisco  during the Gold Rush, but I digress.  

Click on "read more" below for the recipes! 

20 years 'o wedded bliss

Hubby and I (sniff-sniff) have been married for 20 years on Tuesday!  Since I still feel like I must be a teenager, this is a little hard for me to wrap my brain around - much like it's difficult to comprehend that I am actually turning 40 this year.  It can't be!

Anyway, way back when, I imagined that my 20th wedding anniversary would be marked by something fabulous, like a trip to Mexico or an Alaskan cruise or a week of Broadway shows in New York.  Of course, way back when, I imagined I would have unlimited time and money, and very few responsibilities, but it would seem that the reverse is my reality.  And that's OK.  We chose this life.  :o)

Quite miraculously, the Anniversary Fairy, knowing of our quandary, brought a Broadway show to us.  Well, almost to us.

On Friday night, Hubby and I traveled to The Big City to see Spamalot.  It was a fitting musical to celebrate with, since Hubby introduced me to the world of Monty Python when we were about 14 and 17.

We laughed, we cried, and Hubby alternately shivered and broiled as he fought off his raging fever, all in the name of Monty Python loyalty (and our desire not to be out the $100 we forked over for tickets).  

Later, in the hotel, we finally enjoyed our nuked Indian food that was brought to our table a mere 10 minutes before the show was to begin, and which we had to race to our parked car and let sit for two hours before consuming.  I am happy to report that we did not add food poisoning to Hubby's list of ailments.  I am not happy to report that the proprietors of the Indian restaurant adjacent to the theater do not have enough staff or resources to deal with the theater rush that occurs every Friday and Saturday.  They do, however, have a very charming-though-distractable waitperson with multiple facial piercings, tattoos, gauged earlobes, no shoes, and dyslexia (info she volunteered) and a poor memory (also volunteered).  The owners informed us that she "messes everything up," but we found her quite endearing.  She made so many mistakes that I hurt for her.  It made for an interesting meal, er, one-hour-and-fifteen-minute wait.  At least two other tables had to go without their dinners, too.  

Saturday morning, Hubby was still not feeling too great, but he kept it together while we did some shopping.  And more eating.  Because we had an old Red Lobster gift card we needed to use, we went there for lunch and it was actually pretty good.  Plus they brought us a free order of lobster dip, because they made one by mistake and we happened to be the cutest couple there.  Or Hubby looked a little pale.  I'm not sure which.  

After a little more shopping, we headed for home.  We returned to find that A) the kids had not killed each other, B) the kids had cleaned the house and done all the laundry, and C) that our eldest surprised us with flowers, balloons, and a cake:

An inside joke, and the perfect sentiment for our cake!  

It wasn't a cruise or a trip, but it was loads of fun and so wonderful to have a little break from everything for 24 hours.  We paid for the time away in some ways, but it was worth the trade-off.  :o)

Gettin' edumacated...

...bout ironstone:

These are all good books, but I wish there was something more current out there.  I've discovered I have a couple of treasures, but I also discovered I got taken on a couple of things.  I guess if it all balances out,  it's OK.  

Lunch with M

Since Hubby and I will be out of town for the weekend and won't be able to take M out on her actual birthday on Saturday, we picked her up for lunch today.  It was fun to kidnap her from school for an hour, and I think she enjoyed herself very much, recess hair and all.

Our soon-to-be nine-year-old!

Dabo Kolo

J2 is doing a presentation about Ethiopia in school, and decided to make dabo kolo for his classmates.  I posted this recipe before in my old blog, but here it is again in case you're longing for a snappy snack.  We like these really spicy, so we triple the amount of berbere.

Dabo Kolo


Ingredients

• 2 cups whole wheat flour
• 2 tbsp berbere (or cayenne pepper, but I will mail you some berbere if you leave a comment letting me know you want some)
• 1 tbsp sugar
• 1 tsp salt
• 4 tbsp softened (room temp) butter

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 350 F (*see alternate instructions below)
2. In a mixing bowl, combine dry ingredients (flour, berbere, sugar and salt).
3. Slowly add the water and mix so as to form a thick paste.  Remove the mixture from the bowl and knead it on a lightly-floured surface for a few minutes to form a thick dough.  Add the softened butter and knead for an additional 5 minutes.  Let the dough rest in a cool place for 10 minutes.  
4. Divide the dough into handful-sized pieces and roll these into long "pencils" - not quite as thick as your small finger.  Cut these rolls into pieces (scissors can be used), each piece no longer than the width of your finger.
5. Heat and ungreased skillet over medium heat.  Place enough of the uncooked dabo kolo in the skillet to loosely cover the bottom.  (They will have to be cooked in batches.)  Cook over medium heat, stirring periodically, until they are lightly browned on all sides.  * Alternatively, arrange the pieces in a single layer on a baking sheet.  Bake for 20-30 minutes, stirring or shaking the pan a few times during cooking to prevent sticking.
6. When done, remove from oven/skillet and allow to cool completely.  Store in dry, air-tight container.

Habitat for bear-manity

S had to make a polar bear habitat for school, and this is what we came up with.  I thought it turned out super cute, even if I did use specialized masonry nails to attach the styrofoam walls to one another.  Hubby thought I was insane.  Use what you have, I always say!

Le Menu (March 13-19)

I think I figured out a way to post the menu without so many formatting issues.  :o)

You'll see that today's meal is recycled from last week, but that's because the contractor stayed late that day and we ended up having a gourmet meal of Little Caesar's pizza on a blanket on the floor.  That's OK.  I'm flexible like that.  ;o)

I will go out on a limb and say that today's meal was one of the best we've had in a while.  Curtis barbecued the pork and getting the grill involved always makes for a good meal.  If I do it again, I will make the marinade a little hotter, but the pork was very, very good.  The veggies were just divine, especially with jasmine rice.  I didn't post a recipe since I knew I would wing it, but I stir-fried chopped bok choy and red, yellow, and orange bell peppers in hot sesame oil, along with some garlic, ginger, soy sauce, red pepper flakes, and toasted sesame seeds.  SO good.  

Most of the rest of the week's dishes are pretty basic since I'm anticipating limited kitchen access again.  I normally use tilapia or cod for the fish tacos, but this week they are being prepared à la Del Taco with battered fish fillets.  I use corn tortillas, shredded cabbage, fish, diced tomatoes, and a little shredded colby-jack, along with my very special sauce - 1/2 cup of light mayo, the juice of 3 limes, and 2 teaspoons or so of chili powder.  We use it sparingly, but this is enough for 12 tacos or so.  Obviously, I double it.  ;o)  

The meatballs are coming straight out of the WalMart freezer section.  When I can't make my own, I dump the frozen ones in the crock pot with a jar or two of pasta sauce and cook on low for 6 hours or so.  Then we toast buttered steak rolls in the oven, top each with a slice of provolone or mozzarella, and spoon on the meatballs and sauce.  Easy.  

As for the chili and cornbread, you may recall it was on last week's menu too, but this is different chili and cornbread.  Hubby's favorite chili, in fact.  I think it's good, but I have to add a lot of Tabasco.  ;o)  The big reason I love it is that I can have a huge bowl and it's only about 250 calories.  The recipe follows.

And finally, a recipe for Ethiopian chicken t'ibs, as well as info about where to find Ethiopian staples will also follow.  Just click the link below.  

Cake!

Hubby and I have been married nearly 20 years, but have been regular attendees at the local yearly bridal fair since my sister brought her cake studio to town.  Tonight we got to go sample her fabulous goodies and see one of her beautiful new cake designs.  That woman oozes with talent.  And fondant.

Her cake was inspired by this now-famous-in-the-world-of-brides (thanks to Martha Stewart Weddings) beauty from Mark Joseph Cakes:

Oops, I did it again

Messages

You know how in home decorating magazines, people with chalkboards in their kitchens always have important things to remember like black tie soirées, wine tastings, dates to the opera, and meetings with with CEOs?  Or, they post menus of several courses that involve pan-seared something-or-other and wilted baby arugla salad and brandied Asian pear compote?  The words on their chalkboards speak of magical and elegant and exclusive things, and those words are always written by professional calligraphers.

I can imagine that my chalkboard will be used by my family more than me, but that most of its messages will be directed to me: 

"I need cookies and juice for my school party by 11:00 today!  You HAVE to bring them or I'll get in trouble!"

"(nameless child) drank all the milk"

"We need bandaids"

"Can I go to WalMart after school?  K, thanks."  

(Scrawled, so as to disguise the culprit's handwriting) "Poop"

And somewhere near the bottom will be an inappropriate drawing of some sort, most likely created by a 6- or 7-year-old.  

And you know?  I might post the day's menu there.  And we might have wilted baby arugula.  But only because someone forgot to put it in the fridge and left it sitting in the sun.  

Kitchen jewelry

A great expanse

Yesterday, Hubby and the contractor worked together to drain our hot water heat system and remove the radiators from the kitchen.  Hubby also fixed a broken valve on another radiator while he had the opportunity, which means hopefully there will be no more unexpected showers in the small upstairs bathroom.

The contractor got all the cement board laid and installed a temporary stand for our kitchen sink, so now we're down to sink, dishwasher, fridge and range.  We are ready for our slate to go in!  It's weird to stand back and look at how (relatively) HUGE our kitchen has become!

You can also see that I got the two new doors stained.  I used a Sherwin Williams wiping stain that our friend (who manages SW) recommended.  It's a near perfect match to the other stained wood in our house, so I'm pretty happy with how it turned out.  Later tonight I will paint the center panel of the garage door with chalkboard paint.

Lunch!

Impromptu Mexican lunch with Hubby, T, C, J3, and B.  C shouted "Ole!" at the top of her lungs when the server brought our food.  Funny, but embarrassing.  Thank goodness she's only 5!

C, J3 and me

It's a sickness, really

My ability to keep my ironstone hunting to a minimum is failing me.  Worse, I've never been attracted to anything but plain 'ol white, until I found this.  Now I have another pull...

It's American, 1880s-ish, and produced by WB & Co (William Brunt, Jr) in Liverpool, OH.  Luckily for my budget (and I should note this little covered casserole was inexpensive because it is not simply white), finding any matching pieces will be very difficult.  The potter was only in business for several years.  

If for no other reason than I find it fascinating, here's a little bit about the history of this potter:

In 1866 Thomas Starkey and Nathanial Simms built a two kiln stoneware plant on West Market Street (now Dresden Avenue). Mr. Starkey withdrew from the plant in 1868 and Homer Laughlin joined Mr. Simms. At that time the pottery was known as N. M. Simms and Company. When Homer Laughlin left the company Mr. Ferguson joined with Mr. Simms. By 1875 the plant was closed and sold at Sheriff's sale.

William Brunt, Jr. was the successful bidder and named the pottery the "Dresden Pottery Works". He planned to manufacture Ironstone China. Joining him in the company were his brother Henry Brunt, his brother-in -law, William Bloor, George Martin and Samuel Emery. The company became known as the "Brunt, Bloor, Martin & Company." Mr. Bloor was the first in the city to make whiteware back in 1861, so they continued with the whiteware. The First kiln of the ware was in February 1876. The company produced excellent white ironstone , gold decorated ware, table ware, tea sets, spittoons, toys and double -thick hotel ware. It was that year, that the company went into competition with other white ware manufacturers at the Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia, Pa. Along with the other companies of the East Liverpool area, they received medal for excellence in production- -The "Highest Award and Diploma of Merit for white granite ware".

In 1876 the company was producing about 780 casks of ware and by the end of the decade they were producing 3000 casks yearly. The production increased each year until 1882 when a lock-out took place in the local potteries.

During the summer and fall of 1881, a lodge of "Knights of Labor" was organized in town. The pottery leaders were greatly opposed to this organization. in any of their potteries. The Boss Potters posted a resolution on the 17th day of June 1882, that members of the Knights of Labor would no longer be employed. This became a contest of boss potters against workers. The workers did not go to work and would not leave the Knights of Labor. Finally, the workers went back to work after 39 weeks when they signed the Manufacturers' "Iron Clad Agreement" which stated they would not belong to the Knights of Labor. The men lost this contest, but in the long run, the manufacturers also lost and the community was the biggest loser. Business and Real estate values suffered and the division of labor and management greatly widened.

Within a short time of the "Iron Clad Agreement" the owners of the Dresden Pottery Works sensed a change in the labor contracts and they decided to sell the pottery The company was sold to a group of workmen headed by H. A. McNicol. The potters purchased 3/4 interest in the plant and Mr. Emery kept the remaining 1/4 interest.  

This article, by Joan Witt, continues here.  

Le Menu

This week's incredibly exciting menu, brought to you by a limping and sputtering kitchen.  I haven't been able to figure out why this post has so many weird formatting issues, but I'll try to have it fixed for next week!  :o)

6	7	8	9	10	11	12
SUN	MON	TUE	WED	THU	FRI	SAT
Lemon - pepper panko tilapia*, steamed green beans, rice, lemon bars & cheesecake brownies	White turkey chili*,  buttermilk cornbread*	Korean BBQ pork*, stir-fried bok choy/red pepper, rice	Grilled cheese on sourdough bread, tomato soup	Open-faced ham & Swiss ciabatta sandwiches, fruit salad	Pizza Hut	Fend for yourself

*recipes follow - click the link below

Ze floor ees no more

My darling, manly husband worked until 2:00 in the morning last night ripping out the floor (or more aptly - floors) in our kitchen.  I wish we could have saved the wood, but the portions of the floor that were originally butlers' pantries were oak, whereas the small original kitchen area was fir.  And then there is the 5' square area near the garage and back doors that was originally an outside porch, so there really was no way to save anything and have it look right.

On top of the wood were green and tan tiles, maybe 5" square.  I had always thought they were sheet flooring of some type - real linoleum maybe? - but they were individual tiles.  In some places, those tiles had been nailed down along the edges with nails that were 3.5" long.  Hubby said I wouldn't believe how many swear words he uttered as he pulled out each one of those nails into the wee hours.  He said some of the nails were only an inch apart.  Why anyone would feel the need to nail these tiles down in any fashion, rather than simply re-glue them, boggles the mind.

On top of those tiles, there was another layer of red tile (attached with glue), and then the layer of glue from the more recent application of the dreaded kitchen carpet.  As new flooring was added and rooms were shifted around, previous owners cobbled together "subfloor" with bits of scrap wood and other odds and ends.  Getting it all out was a job.

As with all our other demo projects, the house yielded up some answers to mysteries and a few treasures.  We were able to uncover two holes in the floor, the first of which was the laundry chute to the basement.  (It originally went from the second floor to the basement, where laundry was washed in a three basin soapstone sink [still present in the basement], wrung out in a wringer, and dried on the clothes line in the backyard.)  The second hole was an ash waste dump that would have been next to the original cookstove.  Here's a shot of it from my cell phone:

The first treasure was a wad of magazines and newspapers from October 1951 which had been used to shim up an uneven spot in the floor.  They were addressed to the third owner of the house.  Another cell phone shot:

The second was a large poster board drawing labeled "Manor House" and signed on the back by one of the daughters in the third family to live in the house.  There was also a hand-drawn USA map, also on poster board, but it couldn't be saved because it was nailed down to the floor in too many places.  Why they were under the tile, I can't begin to guess.

I think that this family must have been the one to open up the porch area and include it in the kitchen, and I also think this is when a banquette was installed in the kitchen.  We are still in contact with the daughters of this family, and they explained to us that there was an angled bench along the wall (now gone) where the radiator stands.  I suspect it followed the original angled wall that was the access to the enclosed butler's pantry.  I sent an email to one of the daughters with a bunch of pictures, so we'll see what she has to say.  

Here is a shot of the work in progress:

And here is what lunch for 14 looks like when you can't set foot in your kitchen for fear of foot impalement or potential asbestos inhalation.  ;o)

Oh, happy day!

Today, after many, many years hoping and praying, my dear brother-in-law and his family were sealed together for time all eternity in the St. George temple.  We're all feeling very grateful to our Father in Heaven and His great blessings.

(What the heck does being "sealed" mean, and while we're at it, what the heck is a temple?  Answers here.)

All things white and beautiful

Ever since I was old enough to care about such things, I have loved simple white dishes.  When C and I got married, one of my favorite wedding gifts was a large set of white dinnerware with a fruit relief pattern.  Since then, I have accumulated other white dishes, from vintage ironstone to CorningWare's French White bakeware.  I love it all.

Unfortunately, almost anything I have that's breakable has been packed away for at least a couple of years.  Our kitchen wasn't big enough to stash it anywhere safe, let alone display it.  For years I'd had our wedding dishes displayed on an open-shelved hutch, but when our family started *really* growing, I gave a bunch of the dishes to my sister and packed away the rest.  The beautiful old china I inherited from my great aunt has been sitting in a china barrel since we moved into this house almost 8 years ago.  It's a travesty, really.

In our new kitchen, we have enough space available that I could have two whole cabinets for display (plus the small, glass door cabinets on top of the tall uppers), and we'll have the new china cabinet in the dining room.  I am really looking forward to being able to get out my white (and other) dishes and having somewhere safe for them to reside.  I also look forward to USING them again!  I can't wait to see them stacked and arranged on my shelves.

I've been scoping out new (to me) ironstone pieces and have a few things coming to join in the fun.   :o)  I can't afford anything perfect, but really, I don't mind the glaze pops and discoloration and crazing so much anyway.  A lot of this stuff is 100-180 years old.  If an item looks perfect, it's been in a box with no one enjoying it.  If it's a little worn, I can imagine the meals and hands and washing and boo-boos that have been a part of its life.  I'm not a hugely sentimental person, but for some reason, knowing that so many other wives/mothers have used, abused and treasured these items makes them really matter to me.

Here are three interesting things I have coming:

Can you imagine all the things this bowl has held?  It makes me think of mashed potatoes, but it's probably held everything from apples to keys to a sick kid's barf!  It's a J&G Meakin bowl from about 1890.

This one is a Johnson Bros pitcher, ca 1883-1913.  I just thought it was purty, but it could make an awesome receptacle for our ginormous collection of chopsticks.  ;o)

And this little sugar bowl is so sweet!  I think I'll hide my packets of Truvia inside it since they tend to disappear inexplicably.  If this were in good shape, it would have been way out of my price range, but thanks to a little chip on the lid, I paid $14.00.  It's an 1880s Anthony Shaw piece.

A little ironstone eye candy, in closing...