Another of my columns

Here is another of my weekly columns - it turned out kinda nice so I thought I would share it on my blog ...


THINGS OF TRUE WORTH
By Jocelyn Hainsworth

These are the days of bounty. Every day our dinner menu is the stuff of garden freshness and plenty. New potatoes. Fresh carrots. Leaf lettuce salad with green onions, chopped radishes and Grandma Q’s creamy dressing. Cucumbers; sweet and juicy, beets with melted butter, and green and yellow beans cooked and served together, not so much because they taste better that way, but because I like the mixture of colors. Every meal is a feast fit for the gods.

And, to complement the richness of the garden, one night last week there were thick and juicy T-bones steaks out on the grill. It just doesn’t get better than that.

When it came time to put it all on the table I went to the cupboard to get a plate, but knew the minute that I pulled one out that it wouldn’t do. What this feast called for was something special, and I knew just the thing.

Above my microwave, and central to the whole kitchen, sits a platter that is one of my most precious possessions. I use it on special occasions - like when the roast turns out just perfect, or when I’m feeling kind of blue ... or when I’m feeling extra happy. I love the way a whole meal of meat, veggies and potatoes all can be arranged in its oval depression. Its solid presence gives me comfort; its lack of pretentiousness suits my style. It is as plain as plain can be. It was my mother’s

I have all kinds of other, and much more fancy, serving ware - things that come out at Christmas time and are polished up for their once or twice a year turn on the table. They’re pretty, and I do enjoy using them, but expensive and valuable are two different things. If the pretty ones broke I could probably replace them, if something happened to mom’s platter an important little connection that I have with her would be gone forever. I’m pretty careful to wash and dry it by hand and keep it up high, out of harm’s way - but I use it often; that’s part of the connection.

You would laugh if you saw this dish. The inked stamp on the back tells me that it is Royal Ironstone, but I can’t imagine anyone on Antiques Roadshow getting excited to see it. It is white, heavy, and has numerous blemishes. But it was a part of my mother’s kitchen, and now it’s a part of mine. An important part of mine.

The strangest part of it all is that, back when it was still hers I remember thinking that we should really get her something nicer. I considered it ugly, in fact; something that had probably been given to her, or that she had picked up at a garage sale, after she had lost all her original things in a house fire. The food she served on it was always top notch, but the platter itself left a lot to be desired.

So, when I discovered it at the bottom of a box of other kitchen things I bought at her auction sale, I was unimpressed. I couldn’t quite bring myself to throw it away, but neither could I see myself using it. And, ironically, because of its shape and size, I didn’t have a cupboard that it fit into easily. Not knowing what else to do with it, I put it on the microwave - which is as close to the “hearth” as any modern kitchen can come. And a very fitting place for my mother to be.

I couldn’t really tell you when it started being important to me. Was it because it was always there, and handy, when I needed it? Was it its solid warmth every time I picked it up, from sitting above the oven? Is it because of the blemishes that remind me that we all have them, and we can be loved anyway? Do I appreciate it most for its lesson in humility?

This coming week would mark mom’s 82nd birthday if she were still here. I think I’ll make a special supper. You know what I’ll be serving it on.