Washing my dishes was what got me to thinking about how accustomed I am to the objects I’ve lived with. I’ll be using different silverware in Portland. Washing different silverware. hm.
My forks, spoons, and knives are from my parents, one of the old sets of party silverware. It’s a bit heftier than what I think of as “flatware,” though it’s certainly not silver. Dinnerware? Whatever, this isn’t a catalogue.
I actually didn’t like this set when I was a kid. There were three sets, and this was the plainest, heavy and square. At that age, the more ornate, the better–these utensils were clearly made for peasants.
But by the time I needed silverware for my own apartment, my sensibilities had changed. I wanted this set because it was strong and simple. An amateur spoon-bender would not want to try bending these spoons. Even an expert spoon-bender might fail. In fact, these spoons are my makeshift household crowbars (which makes me think I should take one or two with me).
Attachment, on a scale of 1-10 (not at all – it’s part of my being): 4
Take It or Leave It? Leave it (except for one or two spoons)
