I have a favorite spoon. It isn’t valuable to anyone except me. It’s a great spoon for eating soup and such, kind of between a regular dining spoon and a soup spoon in size. It has a wooden handle, and that sealed the deal for me. I LOVE wood.
I’ve used it for YEARS. One day several years ago, the wooden handle split. I tried to be adult about it, but I was really sad. I’d never seen one like it and knew I couldn’t replace it. My husband managed to find a wooden shape that was perfect. He spent a long time carefully drilling a hole down the middle of the complicated shape and glued it on the metal end of the spoon. I was delighted, and have used THIS ONE for years.
Well, as you’ve probably figured out, the handle finally gave up the ghost again. I mentioned it to my husband, but figured he probably wouldn’t be able to get more wood the right shape. His hands also shake now, making precision work much more difficult. I put the spoon with the split handle in the cutlery drawer, just keeping it, even if it couldn’t be used anymore.
When I was getting my coffee this morning, my husband went outside. He came back with this –
It might be dumb to cry over a spoon, but I did. He explained that he got more than one piece of wood years ago so he could repair the spoon again if the handle failed.
The hole I’m digging in the back yard for him will definitely have to wait awhile. :0)
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