
These spoons have had quite the life. Not the life intended for them in 1955, when they were gifted to my parents as a wedding gift but a life never the less. When my parents died nearly 30 years ago I had the difficult job of clearing and selling their home. Everyone who has done that task knows the heartache that such a job brings. These spoons were unused. Still in their wrapping paper, and with a heartwarming and loving letter from my dad’s cousin. I imagine they were never used and preserved, just as they had been gifted, because that cousin killed himself soon after my parents marriage.
Unused spoons are of no use to anyone so I kept the letter and put the spoons to use in my busy family environment.
30 years of daily life without being cleaned. Obviously they have been in and out of the dishwasher, almost daily. A thing not even invented when they were made.
Grubby perhaps, until this week when we made a new-to-us salad dressing. It had eye watering amounts of mustard in it. The salad dressing was a step too far for our stoic spoons. Something dreadful occured. Discolouration and a tang or odd taste came off the spoon.
Dr Google saved the spoons. I did things with boiling water, tin foil, salt and Bicarbonate of Soda and then buffed them with a soft cloth. They have never looked better. The spoons were old looking when I found them. Today they are positively youthful.


they look lovely and such a metaphor for living a life
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