Our Ireland cottage is a blend of modern IKEA and early charity shop. It works. And I’m always happy to take a few spare moments to pop into one or more of the shops here in Gort. Generally trolling for dishes.
Last week I found these beautiful bowls. There were three but one had a small chip, so I decided to take the two. When I arrived at the counter the woman looked at me. And looked at the chipped dish still on the shelf. “Sure now you can’t just take two and leave that last one lonely over there.” So we struck a deal. Three for the price of two. And really, you hardly notice the chip.
Yesterday, in a different shop, I found a small shallow cut glass bowl. Perfect candle holder. Arriving at the counter the woman held the bowl and looked concerned. Glancing at the two remaining on the shelf she said, “Sure now what are ye going to do with only one bowl? I’ll give you all three for a Euro.” I took the deal and quickly turned to intercept another shop volunteer who was now on a mission to locate more of the bowls that she was sure were tucked away somewhere.
Last night I was to dinner with some dear friends who shared that their six-year-old niece has the idea in her head that objects we might consider inanimate are really not. And they told the story of her parents replacing their fridge and this young girl pitching a fit about it saying they couldn’t just throw away the fridge because it was an act of cruel rejection and would hurt its feelings. It would seem she’s not the only one to hold this view. Apparently bowls travel in tribes. And we wouldn’t want any to be left behind and lonely.
Well, I have written and talked about how our Irish ancestors saw everything as sacred. Hmmm.
Judith – firstname.lastname@example.org