I guess the road was a little bumpy, but I didn't realize it was this bumpy. I went into the trailer to use the bathroom and saw that a cupboard door had popped open. The pots and pans must have flown out. They were on the sofa. And my mixing bowls... They were on the floor. I carefully put everything away. The pans were fine. But one bowl was broken beyond repair and I had to sweep up the many pieces. I wanted to cry. It wasn't just any bowl.
Of course I could have brought my stupid, dented, lightweight steel mixing bowls. But no. I love these bowls and I wanted them to be with me. Remember the shades of avocado green and harvest gold that were all the rage in the '70s? These bowls are, or were, the avocado green color before time faded them. To the weak, untrained eye they're ordinary, unremarkable bowls. True enough. But in reality; ah yes, in reality they are retro vintage glass bowls in three sizes: small, medium, large, in famous '70s pukey green. And my dad gave them to me. They are from the house I lived in when I was fifteen years old.
In these bowls I baked my first lemon meringue pie, including pie crust from scratch. Perched on the kitchen stool, leaning over with my nose almost on the glass of the oven I watched, with eager anticipation, my meringue peaks turn light brown. Perfection. Everyone liked my pie so much I didn't even need to refrigerate it. It was gone too fast. In the molecules of these bowls live the hum drum, everyday happenings of life; the tears, the joy, the fear, and the promise of my yet unlived life when I was 15 years old.
Now I own only the small and large sizes. It would take millions of hours of hardcore yard sale hunting to ever replace my middle size bowl.
And I can never get out of bed early enough.
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