So many takeaways from COVID and one of them is that Life is Short
When my grandmother moved into the nursing home, she had a small stash of Nice Things. Some of them were gifts – fancy soaps and toiletries – that she returned to the giver, some were items that I guess she had had for a long time – nightgowns, tablecloths – that she was saving for a special occasion.
Instead of using the Good Soap, she used Irish Spring. (Not that there’s anything wrong with Irish Spring, but sometimes, it’s nice to use the Lavender with Goats’ Milk.)
Instead of using the Fancy Nightgowns, she slept in what she had.
I understand, I think. She grew up very poor and never did have much money. I mean, this was a woman who mended and re-used her pantyhose. She knew how to get along with what she had.
But even if what she had was nice, she wouldn’t use it. The time wasn’t right.
And then she got too old and had to move into a nursing home and never used the Nice Things at all.
Mr T and I have, in the course of our marriage, broken or damaged things, including the red ITALIAN bowls you see above.
OK – true confession – I did get them at TJMaxx, but that does not make me love them any less.
(Gorgeous AND a great deal!)
We have also chipped the beautiful pasta bowls my friends Dave and Laura got for me.
(Pro tip: Part of keeping your ceramics nice is not to get the Zojila dishrack. The slots are too small and your dishes will slip and chip and crack. I hate you, Zojila.)
I have found replacements for the damaged bowls on eBay.
No, they weren’t cheap. That is, they cost more than the original prices.
I don’t care. I like having nice things to use every day.
Yet Mr T’s attitude is that the new, undamaged items should live in the attic until the damaged items are completely unusable.
That is, we should use the damaged goods instead of the – the – the good goods.
(And yes, I have learned how to place items in the dishdrainer to prevent cracking. Basically, you can dry one bowl at a time because it has to sit completely upside down. Again – I hate you, Zojila.)
Mr T is concerned about damaging things through normal use.
It’s a lot easier to bake and cook when he’s out of the house, because if he’s here, he hovers and looms and worries about ALL THE DIRTY DISHES and WHAT IF I SPILL SOMETHING ON THE FLOOR and HEY THAT’S MESSY!
Although I find it hard to believe based on what I saw of his parents’ house – they did not really run a tight ship when it came to tidiness or cleanliness, I suspect he was beaten with a cat o’ nine tails when he deviated at all from absolute neatness when was a child.
(As in, shortly after we met, he vacuumed the pollen off some cut sunflowers so it wouldn’t fall on the table.)
(Yes I know this is very very weird.)
So you see what I’m up against.
And yet – I persisted.
And I prevailed.
And I have convinced Mr T that we will switch the damaged bowls for the good bowls and will happily, merrily (at least I will – Mr T will probably use them trepidatiously) use our Nice Things Before We Die.