July 24 2007, 11:07 PM Spoons Collected

In the kitchen on the ledge above the stove sits a jelly jar. It is full of spoons. There are people who collect spoons as keepsakes; little memorial implements that sit in cases of glass and walnut. There is nothing wrong with this; the people I know who do this are as reasonable as all of the other people I know. The spoons they seek are usually spoons that have emblem, or token. They are not meant to be used as tools. My spoons are tools.

These spoons of mine up atop the stove are not the spoons from the drawer; there are spoons there, too. The spoons in the drawer with the rest of the tableware are all spoons akin, the larger sisters for soup and the little brothers for other things. They are useful spoons for set work, but I find myself grasping for spoons a lot in the kitchen, and it has been useful to have a second set, mongrel, collected there out in the open easy reach of the jelly jar.

I do not remember how they started, those spoons. I know that I have one spoon from the first set of table ware I ever bought for myself and my housemates (a disaster, with lessons). I have odd lot spoons from yard sales and thrift stores that looked interesting, and were reasonably sturdy (it does not do to have a bendy spoon). I have two round bowls of spoons, good for oatmeal, and a mess of others, good for other things: coffee or tea, taking tastes, erstwhile percussion.

Recently, someone was parting out and giving away a full set of implements: spoons, forks, knives, more spoons. This netted me tools for meals in the office, with great thanks. This also brought me two spoons. The first is small and sturdy, meant to perch upon a small cup of strong coffee. The second is strong, proud and thoroughly simple in its institutionality. It's good for pulling up ice cream. It feels solid in a cup of coffee.

It has a strong back, that spoon: it is welcome.