Retro Kitchen Artifacts: the Antique Kavoorkaa

If you remember back to the Seinfeld days, you might remember an episode about Kramer and the "kavoorkaa," a Latvian word for "the lure of the animal." Like many things in pop culture, I've modified the definition, and apply it liberally to my own life.

Seriously, I've taken Seinfeld-isms to the next level. I've bought the complete series dvd set and make my children watch them (when appropriate) so that they can understand why I would ever use a word like "kavoorkaa."

Now, when I am shopping, especially at antique stores, I think about the kavoorkaa. When I touch an item, and linger over it, I know better than to think that it will be there when I return. By holding it and giving it my longing energy, I've kavorkaa'd it.

The next person that comes upon said item, might feel my energy. It will lure them to the purchase, because the positive, longing energy exists.

OK, I am crazy, but I also feel that there is negative kavoorkaa. Sometimes I touch an antique and drop it on the spot. The energy is negative. Creepy. Evil.

All to say, after many visits to one of my favorite antique spots, I finally purchased this thingy as pictured above. A 1950's spoon rack in the shape of a ceramic flower pot. Oh boy. Lucy, this needs some explaining.

I am a woman who has grandma plates. If my grandma ever comes down from heaven, she will find me based on the grandma plates that she purchased with me on a shopping trip in the last months of her life.

I love the old life. The fact that there can be individual salt cellars. The fact that there are so many kinds of forks and spoons and plates. I want the old life. The complicated, but simple. The importance of a beautiful dinner. The slower, more complicated, yet a firm set of rules that establish the next move.

The Table: Part 1 of Many

I have a table. I am thankful for this table. It belonged to my husband's great, great grandmother. It was passed on down and around from all the members of my husband's family and has landed in our kitchen. Permanently.

I have lived with said table for almost 16 years. It is time to pass it on.

How can I say that, you might ask? How could I be eager to pass on such a beloved heirloom? Ahhh, but this seems to be the hot potato of tables, and everyone has been eager to pass it. Now it's my turn.

People, it is falling apart. The middle sags. The top is splintered--and not in a cute antique shop distressed kind of way. The legs are so short that you can't get your own legs under the table when you are sitting at it.

It is not comfy and it sits in the center of my life right, smack dab in the middle of my kitchen. I keep it covered to protect it's modesty at all times with a tablecloth. While I would like to replace this old mare, I do respect her and am happy to have made her acquaintance.

However, my husband loves this table. He has threatened to divorce me if it was to be, say, magically replaced one day without his knowledge. I am a very sentimental girl, but what used to be once just a discussion about this table has turned into much more.

The more I dig in, the more he digs in. We are both of the most stubborn stock, so now it's a battle of the wills.

It would make a great desk. A lovely occasional table. (I'm personally not allowed to move it to another location out of the kitchen). Any relatives reading? Need a table? I'm sure if I found it a good home...