Old New England Glassware in the Home - Part Eighteen - "The Struggle With Discernment"

Old New England Glassware in the Home

Part Eighteen

"The Struggle With Discernment"

            Why must I struggle with my discernments of

            Old New England glassware in the home.

            Why

            Must I discern

            That the seven cordials

            That are... simply... old New England (Boston area or Sandwich, Mass)

            ‘Diamond Point’ “Pattern” with ALL the whistles and bells of the “THEY”

            “ARE EARLY”

            “ONES”

            Why not be ‘simply’ and

            “DON’T BREAK THEM!”

            And

            I... why... with just a promotional eye

            Try

            To get a “YOU”

            To ‘buy them’

            Why

            Bother.

            Either of us; you and I.

            I, feeling that way (‘why bother’) then too,

            Later on

            Found the broken number eight

            Carefully hidden

            In the heating grate.

            “OH” you (all) told me “HOW SMART YOU ARE

            To LOOK IN THERE”.  You say.

            I DON’T CARE what COMMON SENSE dictates DO I.

            To be that obsessively vigilant that “THOSE” (Victorian cast iron floor fixture heating grates) do not escape my notice and flashlight examinations AFTER the ‘iron grate’ is ‘pulled out’.  I DON’T actually

            DO that for it is just a dream I am working in... in there; the ‘in that old house’

            “You BOUGHT THAT” (the contents) they TELL ME.

            So with number eight in the grate I don’t even wrap up the seven and ‘loose in a box’

            They go on the passenger’s side floor on... top of the tools.

            Sort of

            And they clink as I drive alone homeward with

            THEY HAVE NOT BEEN OUT OF THAT CUPBOARD for

            (Well maybe once or twice)

            ONE HUNDRED FIFTY YEARS

            And longer.  I;

            At home with the television on and the truck unloaded in the barn and

            I just didn’t feel STRONG enough to ‘bring them in’ or ‘take them out’ or

            GO DOWN into TOWN AND BUY A BOTTLE of the BEST minister’s Sherry.

            Wouldn’t you like to invite yourself over FOR THAT in... glassware.

            Maybe I should actually INVITE the minister along TOO; that old fog voiced

            Rascal who has

            Pittance of word.  Pittance of deed.  Pittance of dollar and

            PITTANCE OF GOD.

            Would he too

            Just like YOU

            Marvel that I DID look in the

            Heating grate

            And found the number eight.

            NOW I know why

            I must struggle with my discernments

            About

            Old New England glassware in the home.

            When the pressing glass metal men bothered the old New England home with their innovation of... brilliant clear press molded glass metal... pressed into innovative forms for domestic usage... domestic convenience... domestic show.... domestic splendor and the Mrs. Old New England Home herself ‘wrote the check’ ‘for those’:  Form follows fashion?  Fashion follows taste.  Taste is unknown... of... for... in... ‘glassware’ in the old New England home?

            “Just what is this glassware that was never there... before this invented intervention of customized  object?  What does that mean?  Well how about ‘butter’?  It’s still around.  In ‘sticks’.  Remember ‘sticks of butter’?  And the little ...china or GLASSWARE oblong dish with the ....oblong cover that COVERS the ...’stick of butter’...:  Yeah... that.  Yes... a design form.  Yes.  Good; see how quickly you get there now.  Now-these-days one just LOOKS at the butter and TALKS about NOT eating butter and... yeah... like... the stick of butter in the ...butter dish... is... like... ‘old’ (sitting in the refrigerator... in its customized spot... a design form again)... because ‘no one eats that’ ‘anymore’.  Better go check on your old stick of butter... in its old butter dish... in the ‘its old spot’ in the:

            GET IT?

            So... before...  of the GLASSWARE in the New England home... there was no butter dish for NO ONE HAD EVER MADE ONE ‘before’.  But these pressing glass men “HEY WHAT IF HUH” made a ‘THAT”; a butter dish.  BUT  ‘ah... like’ BUTTER was DIFFERENT THEN... a ‘worked up’ ball in a bowl (very clean wooden bowl used only for ‘working up butter’ with a ...wooden ‘same school’ butter ‘paddle’ TOO); a ball of butter... ‘worked up’ and... then... (butter) stamped.... with a ... ‘butter stamp’... while still in the wooden bowl and then ‘lifted and set’... so as to ‘show’ the ‘stamp’ IN... a... pressed ‘pattern glass’ “covered” butter dish...

            “OH THAT’S WHERE THAT COMES FROM.”

            God damnation is this ever ponderous to convey.

            The dishes are round because the butter ball is ROUND.  The dish has a lid.  The butter is in the dish and there is no refrigeration so like... the butter STAYS in the dish while it is “eaten’ with the lid taken off ‘at table’ and put back on when it is ‘stored’ between meals in a ‘cool spot’; ‘down cellar, the summer kitchen ‘breeze way’... or like... ON the kitchen table the... yeah the butter... in the butter dish ...with the lid on... was always around TOO.  Not just ‘at table’ and... and... the butter was eaten... up and a new butter stamped ‘just churned’ butter ball was... hey:  If they were in a hurry at “DINNER” they didn’t wash the butter dish because it was already “CLEAN” by table standards in the “THOSE DAYS” when... butter... came in a ball... from..... YOUR (the family’s) COW.

            Ok:  There we go again:  A design form innovation.  Did I just raise the ‘ones consciousness’ of THAT ‘old New England glassware... in the home.  One will not look at them (butter and its ‘dish’) the same ever again.  BACK WITH THE MINISTER and his sherry are we?  TIP that glass (ware) back and DRINK.  Sort of makes you ‘think’ when your table knife moves to slice off a ‘square’ of butter from the ...stick of butter in the ‘that kind’ of butter dish’

            “YOU KNOW WHAT.  I’VE BEEN  THINKING.  MAYBE I SHOULD GET AN  OLD ROUND BUTTER DISH.  YOU KNOW:  JUST TO USE.  LIKE.  I MEAN:  THAT’S  WHAT THEY actually used in this (“MY”) old New England home.  And... I mean... I’ve... like... LOOKED AT THEM (old New England pressed glass butter dishes) and I LIKE THEM.”

            So... the ‘struggle with my discernments’?

            I am in the dining room... looking in the cupboard’s... bottoms and... there I spy an old EAPG butter dish LID.  OR... equally often... an old EAPG butter dish BOTTOM.  I see it.  I often pick it up, inspect it and... put it back... exactly where it was.  WHY? OK because some ‘girl’ dropped it; either the butter dish’s top or bottom and broke it and... “THEY” put the remaining top or bottom “AWAY” in the cupboard bottom where it has been until

            I (eye)

            “SEE IT”

            Touch it and

            Say absolutely NOTHING

            Because the struggle with my discernments is TOO TEDIOUS to

            Bother us (you and I) with.

            The Minister drinks the sherry and calls it ‘his sherry’.  To my face.  The cordial glasses... holding ‘my’ sherry... of the fine old New England glassware pattern ‘diamond point’... in my home... he never mentions.  He DOES slide our sterling with stainless blade... dinner knife forward to... in actual fact... ‘dab off’ a ‘twist’ of SOFT  ‘room temperature’ butter from the open butter dish and ...smears that lavish on the bottom half of his... he divided ...still oven warm... ‘biscuit’.

            “GOES SO WELL WITH THE SHERRY” he commended us.  My wife put the lid back on the butter dish when she... took the... old tin serving tray... away.

            “ONE MORE FOR MY ROAD” his old fog voice gurgled.  “BY DAMN you’ve bought a FINE LOT this time.  WHO WOULD EVER have THOUGHT that these old HOMES could hold so much (old New England glassware)”.

            Just... what does that mean; these fogged voiced discernments

That I must struggle with?