More than 25 years ago my DH's niece-in-law gave me this pot! I loved it (and still do). I cooked anything and everything in this little pot.
Then several Thanksgivings back (maybe 4) I took my favorite little pot to my brothers for a family feast. I even remember the dish I baked in it (sweet potatoes)...we left early that evening without my pot in tow...
Thinking I would get it back at our next weekend visit I just left it for others to savor the remaining batch of potatoes and never gave it another thought. Well...much to my dismay (and heart break) when I asked for my pot my DSIL said, "You took that pot home"...My brain was reeling...did I? No?...but I'll look in the cabinets when I get home and double check myself.
Sure enough over the next several visits to my brothers and after asking the same question to my DSIL and knowing my precious pot was NOT at my house...I simply gave up. But, I never stopped missing my pot!
Every time I went to prepare the dishes that I was so accustomed to preparing in it ...I would miss it and lament to DH about it...EVERY SINGLE TIME!
Then one day 2 weeks ago I was on the phone with my mother. You know...just one of those girlie chit chats about nothing much in particular. I can't even tell you what started this part of the conversation BUT...I mentioned my pretty little pot and told her the story.
She said..."I think I have that pot!...DDIL gave it to me several years back saying she didn't know who it belonged to but that I could have it." 'Well...HELLOW...DUH...OK!' She describes it to me and "yes, mom, I think that is my pot!"
Yesterday, we went to visit my mom and there on the counter top...pretty as ever...was my little pot! OH how I've missed that pot...but my mom said how much she loved it too...so being the WONDERFUL daughter that I am (she says grinning like the Cheshire Cat) told her to just keep it..."No, I would never feel right using it again. You take it home."
SO....now my pretty little pot is once again at home and I am SO LOVING HER! I promise never to take her out of my home to another feast...ever.
Now, call me cwazy...but I think she must have missed me as much as I've missed her. It seemed as if I saw her smile when we walked in the door. And I'm sure I heard a gentle ~sigh~...as if to say "oh, home sweet home". What do you think? Is she smiling? Or...is it my imagination?
Either way I sure am smiling....
:-)
In and Because of HIM,
Susan
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