all the china in Anthropologie

Several years ago I inherited my Grandma Julia's turquoise Fiestaware. She's been gone since I was six, but my mom curated her collections. The Fiestaware came to live with me when I lived in an airy 1900-ish third (really fourth) floor walk-up four blocks from Lake Michigan. I had a terrible boyfriend and no money at all, but I had a fantastic apartment for which I paid very little.

The shortcoming of my grandma's collection was bowls. There weren't any. Two large enough for ice cream, but not oatmeal. On a shopping trip where I spent no money (there were many of those) I found Anthropologie's latte bowls. The light blue color was so nice with the Fiestaware, and the size was so perfect.

I didn't buy them, of course. I was shopping on air. Over time things changed, as they do. I did not and do not have money, but I could certainly have afforded $24 of latte bowls. Still, I did not buy them.

It's been three years. No one has bought me $24 of latte bowls. (Many generous people have bought me many dollars of other things, this is no poor-me.) DJ and I have griped over and over that the bowls we have are not the right size, not the right shape. Generally not right. But I still didn't buy the latte bowls. I don't know why.

Last week Anthropologie put my bowls on sale, discontinuing the color. I finally bought them. Six for using, two for breaking. I suppose the time was right. Now I live in a 1970's condo much closer to work - with a dog, two cats, and a guy who brings me sorbet. I ate the sorbet straight from the carton. A bowl would have been more civilized.

Please feel free to draw your own parallels between the perfect bowls and the perfect guy. It's so obvious I can hardly stand it - knowing they were out there and doing nothing, having your new stuff work well with the stuff you bring into the relationship. Et cetera.

(Yes, I know that platter is upside down. I noticed and didn't fix it, just closed the door. Why else have cabinet doors?)