Puurging my kitchen cabinets today when I’m faced with this wooden spoon. It’s seriously beat up and should be garbage. I know that. It’s scoop has almost been leveled by time, it’s cracked, discolored, and completely worn. And yet I still can’t bare to get rid of it. You see, the hands that have stirred, mixed, and served with this spoon were my grandmothers. As I’m moved to tears in my kitchen over a wooden spoon this afternoon, I’ll place it back in its home in my stoneware crock and cherish it for 60 more years because to me it is so much more than a worn wooden spoon.
Credit – original owner ( respect 🫡)
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