Fiesta!

The other day, I was walking around some store with a friend of mine at the end of a day of junking and shopping. We were drooling over KitchenAid mixers, and I made the comment that a red one was one of the two things I planned to register for if and when I ever get married.

As I said it, and I've probably said it a hundred times before, I felt like one of those people in the V8 commercials who gets hit between the eyes. I practically heard the smack. Why the heck am I waiting to get this stuff? The chances of my getting married are getting closer to nil every passing day. If I want a KitchenAid mixer, then by George, I guess I'm going to have to get it myself instead of waiting for a party with sherbet punch at the church fellowship hall.

It's not just the mixer, either. More than the mixer, in fact, I have been wanting a set of the new production of Fiestaware. I have a set of old Fiesta that belonged to my grandmother and that we used to eat from before we knew that they had lead glaze and were unhealthy. I have always loved the mix of colors and the deco lines. Many times, I've looked at old pieces on eBay, but I didn't really want any more of the old production. After all, I like to use my stuff.

Today, I bought 4-piece place settings in sunflower, scarlet, peacock, and shamrock. They were on sale, I suppose in honor of the release of a new color from Fiesta called evergreen, and although I went in intending to only get one place setting, I marched out with two bags full.

When I got home, I sat down on my kitchen floor and pulled the pieces out of their boxes with as much excitement as a kid on Christmas morning. Each piece, as it came out of its brown paper wrapping and cushion, made me smile. The colors are rich and vibrant, the lines are clean and graceful, and the heavy solidity of each piece felt comforting in the hand. They match my old tablecloths perfectly both in palette and style.

Best of all, though, these colorful pottery dishes make me feel like my Nana is standing over my shoulder smiling. I feel a very real link to her and to the things that she liked as I run my fingers over the rings in the middle of the plates or along the circular handles of the sturdy mugs. I like to think it's a connection, not just to a piece of America's cultural past, but also to my own family's dinners.