my mother’s bowls
Love these bowls. They were my mother’s.  I remember sitting on the counter as a little girl and helping her make wonderful things in these bowls. I remember licking these bowls until they were clean.  I can’t believe they are mine now. I get them out when ever I can.  Even if it is because the light on the counter is perfect and I want them to bask in it.  

2 thoughts on “stacked

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