One of the things Ray and I never acquired when we were newly wed was a set of dishes. I just never found the right ones (though I didn't look that hard) and Ray had some left from his bachelor days. He leaned toward using his "perfectly good" dishes, and since we had already had an argument about an $8 cheese plane I'd come home with, I just went with it.
Pictured here is what was once our $8 source of strife, which we chuckle about now.
But back to the plates. Everytime I load/unload the dishwasher, or pull one of these puppies out of the cupboard, I cringe. They rub me wrong in every way. And while I know they're functional and mostly do what they're supposed to (hold our food), they don't help me with my inner aesthetics in any way. They cause me grief on a daily basis. I'm convinced they make my food taste worse. Is that possible, because I believe it is!?
Can you see why? These plates had no business being made for several reasons. Turquoise and pink? The designs? Just my opinion...
The other night we had some new friends coming to dinner, and I just couldn't bring myself to set out these plates. But paper plates didn't seem right either. So I broke my silence and complained about our plates. Ray said, "I have some plates we can use out in the garage!" In he walks with these, a set of John Deere dishes that he got on clearance at Fred Meyer about 4 years ago. I was always under the impression that he was going to give them away to a farmer friend of his.
I begrudgingly unpacked the box of dishes and decided that these plates were better than the 80's ugliness that smoldered in the cupboard. So we set these plates out. After trying them out, we actually like the size, weight and build of them. So we will use these as our plates for the time being. The three year-old son of our friends was particularly delighted with our table settings, so we have that to be happy about.
Am I being petty?
Some days I wave.
2 hours ago