I thought it was such a waste, she had obviously loved these things, and put them aside to use for some event that never came. I made the decision to use all my nice things (such as they are,) often. And I took the tablecloths home with me.
So this brings me to today. Today I found myself with an abundance of both time and onions. I decided to make an onion soup. Son was helping me. So far, so good. He suggested paprika in the soup. I had a box of paprika that I had had for a long time, and used rarely. It was a pretty red canister. Somehow it had gotten pushed to the back of the spice shelf. Today I thought 'aha, I have remembered my lesson, I will use the paprika.'
So we opened it up, and moths came out! My son dropped it on the floor, and the whole kitchen became covered in what appeared to be blood. (Feet tracking paprika round the kitchen look exactly like bloody footprints.
We completed the soup. it turned out fine. I mopped the floor-- and it no longer looks like the gun deck of a frigate. I threw the paprika away.
I feel there is a lesson there somewhere. Not sure what it is. Maybe less philosophy and more to do with proper spice storage?
