Feb 8, 2011

let them eat cake





























I so love the looks of this cake. It's just sitting there on the table looking all white and boring, and nobody is too excited, and then you get out the Reed and Barton Francis the 1st sterling cake server, because you got not one, but three of them when you got married, and they should be put to good use, by golly, and anyway, you cut into that plain old white cake and Ta Daaaaah! The cutest heart you've ever seen has snuck inside to thrill and delight!

Oh dear. Did I write thank-you notes for all three of those cake servers? That was A LONG TIME AGO. The statute of limitations for thank yous is one year. Did you know that? My Mom drilled that one in for sure. You're actually supposed to write them right away. Uh huh.

Matt and I eloped. We were hoping to avoid some of the hoopla. Somehow or another it didn't work. We got way too many gifts. I remember standing in the bridal registry department at Rich's in Atlanta. Mom had laid out the directive for me to go and choose a sterling pattern. But I live in a van, I said. She's a smart woman and knew that one day I would live in trailer and might have use for utensils.

So I stood there in the silver section in cut-offs and indian moccasins, and perused patterns with a very stately woman in a pale pink suit and panty hose and pumps. She had a clipboard. Well, I am nothing if not a walking contradiction, and she was befuddled when I quickly steered away from the plain and simple, to the quite formal and ornate and rather expensive.

I went back and forth. I, of course, took into consideration what silver was already in the family. My mothers' and both grandmothers'. Mom thought it would be wise to replicate one of these as they might be split at some point, and it would make a whole. She wasn't so optimistic about my prospects, I suppose. Neither was Miss Bun On Her Head sales lady. And that's neither with a long I.

OK. Let's do this thing. It was between Francis the First and Repoussee.  If you want to go research some flatware, now would be the time. Suffice to say, these two are mac daddy. The stuff of kings and presidents. And why the hell not? Go big or go home, as Joe Kenworthy would say.

I finally chose Francis the First. It's stunning. "Really? Are you sure?" said she.

She was thinking, "Who the hell is going to buy Pocahontas a butter knife?"

God Bless that patient woman and her clipboard. She probably worked on commission.

And if so, she got lucky that day.  Do I have full place settings for twelve? Yes I do. Every serving piece ever thought of. Check. Extras? You know it.

We use it every day. It does not live in a box, as is proper. It digs in the dirt and catapults English peas. It  wages an ongoing battle with the disposal.

When the president comes for dinner, we'll be set.

In the meantime, my little kings and queen will use it.

P.S. Somebody bake me that cake, because I have not a clue! image via projectwedding

2 comments:

Jamie Jo said...

I was going to rush over to your house if that was your cake of the week! Oh my! I cannot even fathom how to do that (other than Photoshop). So, on my thank you notes, I only made it to the "B's." I know, terrible! My mother sent out 964 wedding invitations and thankfully they all didn't come, but they all sent gifts. Crazy! One of my girlfriends actually took the "A's" and wrote those thank you notes and I did the "B's" and that is where it stopped because I got pregnant and had a baby. I am a terrible little Baylor girl who knows better about getting those things out within the first year. Oh well.

ivey patton said...

I wrote about one hundred and fifty and feel guilty everyday. i think i'll do a post with just a blanket thankyou to the whole wide world.