Stories from the Stringam Family Ranches of Southern Alberta

From the 50s and 60s to today . . .



Monday, January 13, 2014

Bunny Breakage

Dishes and I have a history.
Okay, yes, I use them at meals.
But we regard each other with deep suspicion.
I’ve recounted one experience here.
But the one I’m about to describe is the first I can remember . . .
On the Stringam ranch, mealtimes were an exciting gustatory trip down the trail to deliciousness.
When the meal ended, the work began.
Well, for the rest of us. Mom had obviously already been at . . . never mind.
I was five.
The work, for me, consisted of transporting non-breakables from the table to the sink.
Yep. The spoons, butter knives and forks were my special friends.
Occasionally, I also branched out and dealt with such things as: napkins. Salt and pepper. Toothpicks.
My work load was exhausting.
Leftovers were carefully covered and stored in the ‘fridge.
Anything left on the plates was scraped into one container and taken out to the dogs, who then thought they had been sent to doggie heaven.
It was 1960. Doggie nutrition and diet hadn’t been invented yet.
Back to my story . . .
On this particular day, the scraps had been placed in my little brother’s ‘bunny’ bowl.
A cute little china bowl with a bunny scene in the bottom and bunnies running all around the outside.
The favourite choice of the under-five group.
Which, at that time, consisted of my brother.
Moving on . . .
Everyone was busy.
I had finished my all-important silverware shuffle and was at a loose end.
Then I saw it.
The bowl of dog scraps. Just sitting there, waiting for some grown-up person to transport it.
Me!
“Mom! I’m gonna take out the scraps!” I said, in my most authoritative voice.
“Mmm,” Mom said.
You have to understand that she was busy: effecting the organization of three other children, keeping a watch on the baby and talking to Dad.
“Yeah. I’m big enough!”
“Yes, dear.”
She said yes!
I grabbed the bowl and headed for the door.
Feeding the dogs on the ranch consisted of carrying the scraps across the cement driveway to the far copse of trees beside the old garage and tipping said scraps into the large, metal hubcap waiting there.
Sound easy?
Now picture several dogs (who had appeared as soon as the door opened) leaping and jumping around like idiots.
I suddenly realized why the job of taking out the scraps usually fell to a . . . bigger person.
I didn’t even make it across the driveway.
Blair’s little bunny bowl was knocked from my hand, breaking in half on impact.
The dogs happily started in on the scraps (glass fragments hadn’t been invented, either) and I collected the two pieces and returned, in tears of defeat, to my Mom.
It would be some years before I was again trusted with anything breakable. (See above.)
And our little bunny bowl was gone forever.
P.S. There is a happy ending to this story.
During a recent trip to Costco with my son, I saw something that . . . . well, I‘ll just let you see for yourself.
They’re back. Or, in truth, were never, really gone.
Just keep them away from me!

18 comments:

  1. The bunny bowl looks very familiar...I wonder if we once had one for our kids?

    Dogs attack for food...That also sounds very familiar.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Ahem....they also make them in plastic.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Plastic?!!! What an amazing idea! That would be more my style!

      Delete
  3. Had 'em for our youngsters, too :)

    The thing that scares me about dish washing is the fine china. Even though I know it's built to be very tough, I start quaking as soon as I touch it.

    Your little heart must have broken along with the dish ... or were you just afraid of being in trouble?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I'm the same with china. I have my Grandma's and every time it comes out of the cupboard, I'm in a sweat until it goes back in.
      I loved that bowl. AND I was afraid of getting into trouble. Sigh.

      Delete
  4. I remember Peter Rabbit bowls and plates, cups too, although I never had any. Children were encouraged to "eat up and find the bunny". Everyone I ever knew who was English had a set of these dishes for the littlest kids. They've always been available in department stores out here.
    I can imagine how devastated you were to break this treasure. And your joy at finding them again.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Rats! Why didn't my mom think of that? Finding the bunny would have been SUCH a good game! I'm going to try it with my grandkids!

      Delete
  5. I still have my Peter Rabbit plate from when I was a kid. There is more than one non-microwave-safe toxic super-glued crack in it. But I still love it.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Glue! Why didn't we think of that? It would have saved us the sad-eyed tribute as the little bowl was consigned to the dark, sketchy recesses of the garbage heap!

      Delete
  6. Definitely get the plastic ones next time instead!!!

    ReplyDelete
  7. Oh, that's so cute! You should get one for old time's sake.

    This was my favorite line of this post, if I may be so bold: "effecting the organization of three other children". The perfect description of industrious motherhood at work!

    ReplyDelete
  8. An adorable story; I can just picture it all.
    Loved this one and I am smiling right now which is really good because I was crying over something earlier
    Blessings for the smile today!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. LeAnn, I'm so happy I could bring a smile to your face. Thinking of you!

      Delete
  9. That plate looks familiar. Hmmm... perhaps it was at our house or at grandma's house. My kids get the plain plastic plates from Target because I'm a bug meanie!

    ReplyDelete

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