Kitchen Utensil found a home

A couple of the folks who were at the Women’s Retreat with me have already heard this story, but I want to write about it here.
Not so much to brag, but to walk past this memory and lay it to rest.
It is not easy for me to let go when I feel I was reasonable, yet ignored.
It is time to set down some baggage on life’s journey.  That saying was emphasized during a sermon last weekend.

From October 1995 to November 1998, my job was in a cafeteria.
In a drawer in the baker’s area were several of the utensils seen above, called portion control dishers.  If ordering from an equipment company, that would be the box to check, though I usually call them scoops, actually a different item altogether.

Each of the colors is a different size.  There was only one green handle in the whole kitchen, yet that was the size I used most often.  I asked the manager to purchase a couple more for simple convenience, so that if one scoop disher was in the dirty dishroom, then I could use another for my current task.

The request was denied, citing dollar expenses.

Taking matters into my own hands, I went to the restaurant supply store and bought my own disher with a green handle.  I kept the receipt in my carry-all bag, so that if anyone ever questioned me about taking it off the property, I had proof positive that it was my own. Extra insurance was my husband engraved my name in a discreet place.

When it came time for me to be done with that job for medical reasons, I left a few of my own items there.  The radio and the muffin tins had been used and abused and I didn’t really need them for any purpose.
I made sure I had my disher with the green handle, tho.
That little tool had helped save my sanity and schedule many times over.
For me, it was the principle of it all.  I asked for an extra one to work with, had been denied, so I had bought it with my own earnings from the job.

For almost 8 years, it has been shuffled through the utensil drawer in the kitchen here at the house.  I don’t ever need such large portions for home-cooking.

These past few weeks, we are trying to clear storage space.
That bright green handle was a not-too-pleasant reminder of days and job gone by, so it really should get gone.

Knowing that our church camp runs on a really tight budget, and knowing that having extra utensils for many cooks and bakers means an easier, harmonious work atmosphere, I decided that my disher with the green handle should make the trip to Women’s Retreat with me.

At least 3 days before the trip, I dropped the disher into a side pocket of my carry-all/crochet bag so I wouldn’t forget it.  Whenever I picked up the bag, it seemed a bit heavy.

Quite a little adventure, if the scoop-disher-utensil could talk!
It went into the Travel Plaza on the I80 Tollway, and down the hill to the chapel for the Saturday morning service.

When I remembered to take it to the kitchen, the cook recognized and welcomed a quality utensil.  She was quite busy at the stove, and I tend to ramble when I have an item with a dark history, so I hope nothing stuck to the bottom of the pan.

One woman’s castoff kitchen tool has found a new home.

~~love and Huggs, Diane

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