I love that place. What great idea.
Last Monday, a week ago, I went to a small party for fireworks shot off nearby the place near Bonnie Brae. After the party after most people left, for some reason the host pulled out three nested colored bowls he recently inherited. He was tickled with these vintage colored bowls that pretty much everyone had in the late 50s and 60s. He un-nested them and nested them back together inside the largest bowl.
I was all, pfft, so what.
He kept attention on them. Like a child learning colors he called out the colors we could clearly see for ourselves. Then he said, It's missing red. That's the big bowl, I think.
His largest bowl didn't seem that big. He's probably right.
I found the bowl easily on eBay.
Apparently there were more than one set. One of the sets, the largest bowl is yellow. But my friend has a yellow bowl. If he is wrong and his yellow is actually the largest of his set then it's not very large. Turns out, the largest bowl is #404 no matter the color and it holds 4 quarts, one gallon, and that really isn't very large.
I just now bought a #404 red bowl and had it shipped to his house.
There's a good chance he'll end up with two #404 bowls, one yellow and another red. Oh well. Can always try again with another red whatever number he's missing.
It would just be very cool to have a complete set. And I went by what he said. It's a gamble. And boy, will he be surprised when the UPS guy shows up with a red bowl. And dismayed and bemused if it's not larger than his yellow.
We had those same bowls back then. I'll bet one of my sisters has them now. Online sites say the largest bowl usually gets broken because of its size. None of our bowls broke even through very many moves, even through two moves in Pennsylvania, three moves in Japan, three moves in Louisiana and two moves in Colorado. It's kind of awesome how some iconic things like these colored bowls held steady through so much hazard only to mention the hazard of a large family.
My dad used to alway say you cannot have nice things when you have kids. And there's truth to that but it made me feel bad because my presence caused my parents to not have nice things. Because I really did wreck a lot of things. I had no concept of value and property and cost and where things come from. I thought everything around simply sprung up automatically from nature, like flowers. I had no sense of value even for flowers. I thought they just grew like all other plants. God made them. God made everything. I picked the neighbor's flowers to give to my mother. She freaked out and told me not to do that. I thought they just grew by themselves. I thought property just appeared. Everything around me simply appeared. For me to stick my fingers in and explore, test its tensile strength, examine its structure, check its durability, poke and jab at it with the nearest thing at hand, scrape it, pull at its threads, smash it to see how it holds up. So, sure, I can see that, you cannot have nice things because I'll get my hands on it, but do you have to say that all the time like I'm guilty of being born? I guessed those colored bowls weren't nice. Because they lasted forever.
Except in other people's house it's usually the big one that gets broken.
Wach this be a different case where the smaller red one was broken
All I had to do was ask him to read the numbers on the bottom but that would ruin the fun of the surprise. It's brilliant if it works. And it's *high pitch* STEW *low pitch* pud, if it fails.