Skip to main content

My History with Fiestaware

It was either late fall of 1987 or early winter of 1998 when I first heard of Fiestaware. I was a freshman in college and it had always been my dream to see The Wizard of Oz on the big screen. A theater in downtown Pittsburgh was having a film festival and they were doing a double feature of That's Entertainment! and The Wizard of Oz so I begged up a group of friends (I can't remember who went, there were four of us) and we made the trek towards town. Parked and road the streetcar in.

The theater charged original ticket prices and original concession prices so it was a cheap evening of fun. My dream came true as I watched Dorothy navigate her way home.

During the intermission they had a giveaway and as they called out the ticket number I realized that 18-year-old me won a service for four set of Fiestaware. I had no idea what this was other than several heavy boxes that we then had to take back to school via the streetcar. Thankfully we did have a couple of strong boys with us.

I hung onto that Fiestaware for a few years and never used it. After being married for some time I decided to get rid of some stuff (because I love getting rid of stuff!) and had a garage sale. An old lady came and agreed to purchase my Fiestaware dishes for $35. I was thrilled and so was she. She arranged to come back later in the day with the cash and when she came it was dark outside. We made the exchange and she slowly backed out of my driveway and into the street. And across the street. And over the small hill into a field of dried cornstalks.

I don't remember much after that. I know she called her son and he came and somehow got her out of her predicament. I also know it was one of the stranger things that I've watched happen. It was in slow motion. She just kept going.

I didn't laugh then but I sure laugh about it now.

And that is all I think of when I see Fiestaware.

The end.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Kitchen floor woes

I spent a better part of this afternoon lamenting how much I hate my kitchen floor. It puzzles me as to why anyone would install such flooring. Not only is it ugly, but also impractical. It also puzzles me as to why, after nearly nine years in this house, I still have this floor. Well. It doesn't puzzle me that much ($$$). I clean it only once a year.  Don't judge,  I Swiffer and spot clean in between. And I have a dog who does her share of, ahem , cleaning it.  But see all of those deep grout lines? Scrubbing around each brick tile and into those lines is beastly. It's much harder than getting foundation out of the lines on my face. Douse with cleaner. Scrub with rough sponge. Wipe with cloth rag. Rinse with rag. Rinse again in between each brick tile until it's done. Roughly two hours of scrubbing and rinsing. Similar process to removing makeup, but much more labor intensive.  Yes, I could use a mop but scrubbing...

Front Row Seat

  If you've been around me any length of time, you'll know I love having a front row seat when possible. Church. Concerts. Comedy shows. Auctions. I want to be front and center, where the action is, so I don't get distracted and miss something. I want to be part of the event and front is where it's at.  Lately I've had a front row seat to some things that I wish I could unsee. My mother's Alzheimer's diagnosis and the last year and a half of watching her slow and steady decline into a world of unknowns has taken a toll.  I tend to hold every emotion inside. Always have. I've learned -these past fifteen months or so- that this is bad for my health. Stress levels are impacting how I feel. Palpitations, and a diagnosis of "harmless" PACs, have left me trying to manage this stress. It's gotten easier but, I'll admit, I still have things shoved down inside. And then along came CDH. A diagnosis I'd not heard of before it was given to...

Sweet Zoey

 Zoey - August 10, 2020 When we found her I didn't realize I needed her. Sure, she needed us, she was living in woods, alone, surviving on whatever she could find. She was nine months old, the vet later told me when I took her in for a check-up, still unsure I wanted to keep this undernourished mutt. We'd been on vacation in southwest Missouri, near the Arkansas border, in the middle of the woods. I was on the porch when I saw her trotting down the dirt road. A little brown dog. I whistled and she stopped to look at me from across the lawn. Then she continued on her way. Later that night, the family was watching a movie we'd brought (no cable service out there!) and suddenly this furry face popped up in the window, scaring my husband out of his seat. We fed her some people food and went to bed.  She was still there in the morning. We asked around and no one knew where she came from. We fed her some more and she stayed. The next day we went and bought some dog food, f...