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.

"Is That New?" Asks My Husband

I was frantically rushing around the kitchen trying to put dinner on the table.

(Yes, it's true, I sometimes do actually cook, not that anyone usually gets that excited about my cooking. My kids prefer frozen pizza and Annie's Pasta to my concoctions.)

I was still in my sweaty work out clothes from this morning. There was no good excuse or reason for this. My hair was in a messy ponytail, food was flying around the kitchen, and... in walked my husband.

"Is that new?" He asked, and I knew exactly what he was referring to: my blue cycling jacket that I got on the clearance rack at REI about a month ago.

I've been asked this question several times, and I never quite know what to say. I never know if it is leading to a tongue lashing about spending or a compliment. Sometimes, it is both in disguise.

On a Monday night at 7:05, potholders on my hands like mittens and my flyaway hairs sticking out of my ponytail like a halo of chaos, I'm pretty sure no compliments were coming my way.

Luckily, we were distracted by something or other--it could be that dinner was burning.

My answer? "Why, this old thing? I've had it for a month..."

My answer felt like an I Love Lucy episode, and I felt a little like Lucy myself and thought about taking her tricks and hiding shopping bags in my closet.

Men can wear the same pair of pants every day for a week, but women have different ideas. Besides, my husband would rather scrub toilets than shop, so I know when he is in fact wearing something new--that's because I bought it.

Why are there age old arguments like mother in laws and shopping that seem to be a gold mine for stand up comedians? I guess because they are classics, and classics never go out of style. "Is that new?" Nope, it's a classic. That is what I'm going to say next time.