This weekend was a flurry of sweeping, ditching, reorganizing, and restaging. Hub got the ball rolling on Saturday by cleaning out the garage while I was away with my Mom for the day. It looks as good as the day we moved in.
That sparked a kitchen/dining reorganization that consisted of decluttering, reorganizing, heavy lifting, and rediscovery of things long thought lost. I took the opportunity to restage all of my Pfaltzgraf Yorktowne stoneware. I have tons of it, and even though I have been collecting it for more than 25 years, I never seem to tire of it.
I have plates, cups, bowls, platters, canisters, vases, butter dishes, spoonrests, a honeypot, a soup tureen, a coffee grinder, a cookie mold, a potpourri hanging heart, a bell . . . and probably alot more still packed away.
There was a time that I had potholders, dish towels, placemats, burner covers, and lightswitch covers, but over the years, I have burned, stained, broken, torn, or otherwise mangled these items. The stoneware, however, is damn near indescructible.
I say damn near because I had the heartbreaking task of actually throwing some pieces away yesterday. A platter and bowl had seen better days, and had noticeable cracks and hairline fractures. I couldn't think of anything else to do with them, so into the trash they went. Farewell, my comrades. You have served many a meal in your time . . . back to the earth from whence you came.
I even have a live plant in my kitchen. I am fearful, yet hopeful, since every houseplant I have ever had has died a quick, brown death.
Keep a good thought for this pretty thing. I am going to try my best not to kill it.
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