In unexpected places, unexpected times

Sometimes I love to cook, and sometimes not so much.  I do enjoy my things, though.  I have Fiesta dishes in a variety of colors and love those.  Love to see them in my cabinets, love to see them on the table.  Love to see how they are going to come out of the dishwasher and get all shuffled around in a wild, joyous stack of color.  It’s silly that plates can bring such joy.

When my mom was downsizing, whether by choice or by necessity, I became the owner of a small platter with a leaf pattern ~ my favorite theme, oak leaves and acorns.  This was my mom’s go to platter.  I am sure if you ever ate at her house, she served you something on this platter as it was at almost every meal, or held pieces of cake, cookies, lunch meat... It’s one of those items that just screams MOM to me, like the black cast iron skillet I wrote of a few months ago screaming my grandmother’s name.  My sister-in-law has been busy these past months organizing and reminiscing over some of her mom’s prized possessions and has mentioned forks, or bowls, or pots that make her think of her mom even that much more.  It’s a heavy task, but such joy to come across some small item that just brings a memory back so fresh, and so fondly. 

A few months ago I was kicking around some antique shops and almost squealed when I came across a small bowl that matches my mom’s platter.  Of course I bought it and must say the last thing I need in this house is a bowl.  I would like to say I’ve never seen the platter out in our antique stops, but honestly, have to say I haven’t looked for one…or any platters, for that matter.  But to see the bowl, in Kentucky, with my family…well, it had to be mine.  

Keep your eyes open as you will never know what, or when, you will stumble across something that makes you almost squeal.