Everyday Dishes/Everyday Choices

           When a meeting got cancelled last minute, I found myself with a couple of hours just for me…a gift of time if ever there was one. Anymore, snippets like these become cherished treasures.

            Had I not already showered and dressed, I’d have headed back outside to do a bit more gardening, but being ready for the meetings that followed, left options involving sweat out of the running. My next instinct was to sit down and write, but I wasn't in the zone. Once moving, I tend to keep moving; writing is best done going into or coming off of my day….the toughest part of writing being that butt-to-chair proposition.

            No. I was  in an “in between” state, with  a couple of hours on my hands…What to do? What to do?

            For reasons that are more habit than logical, I head to the sink in such moments. Something about mindlessly moving things around in my kitchen never fails to jump start the cogs in my brain. As I began to unload the dishwasher I happened to notice I had an odd number of coffee cups (and a dang lot of them), saucers for which did not match the count.

            In stopping to ponder this equation, it occurred to me “Why do I even have these cups? I never use them (save for heating leftovers now and then). What’s more, they truly are huge, taking up an entire shelf all their own." Reaching for my step ladder, I pulled the entire lot of cups, saucers and mismatched glasses off a shelf I could be making far more practical use of, when mindlessly, I began to change out my dishware.

Because I’m a sentimental fool, I have oodles and oodles of dishes, glassware and tea services handed down to me from grandmothers and great grandmothers on both  sides of the family. Never one to pass on the opportunity to keep something of Grans or Mema’s or better yet, Granny Rector’s or Granny Mac’s, I stacked my common, solid, clunky cups and saucers, plates and bowls and went to clear a shelf in my cupboard where the fine china resides. One by one, I start shopping from the shelves reserved for holidays…those that house the family dish ware consisting of patterns with far more character and charm.

Taking time to dust as I rearranged, l I found myself at full hour later, with a brand new array of daily dish ware, and a fresh new feel to an otherwise, everyday proposition—that being the dishes I eat off of each day.

As I closed the last of the cupboard doors, I wondered why I hadn’t done this sooner…Given the choice, it’s a no brainer to want loving reminders as a part of my everyday life. So why do I save these for “special occasions” only, relegating myself to boring, plain stuff in my day to day?

Glancing around at everything from stemware to mixing bowls, I decided that from here on out, those things holding no meaning or sentimental value are fair game for yard sales or Goodwill. My purple dishware, functional though has been, was a Pottery Barn special, which (no offense to PB) but it hardly makes the cut. Not only is it bulky and cumbersome, but it holds zero sentimental value, whereas dishes handed down (chips, cracks and all) are chock full of memories, meaning and love. Seems a small thing, but a mindful one as it dawned on me that  there are precious few things in life I can control. (Better grab ‘em while you can.) What’s more, if I can physically feel the warmth and the love as I look at, touch, feel, USE these dishes, what’s it doing for my digestion when I eat from them? To think that the same vibe going on outside of me I can literally take inside of me is a fascinating proposition….

               To think that these very same plates were lovingly used each day by my great grandmother to express love to her family…well, who wouldn't want that vibe around? I’ve gotta believe what's  good for the body is good for the soul. Here's to loving reminders at every turn.