Thursday, January 22, 2009

the tale of a chopping block: a tragedy

Before I was born my parents purchased a John Boos chopping block. The kind with legs and casters.  I feel like I spend my childhood sitting on that chopping block.   At some point after college, my parents passed on some of their things to me as the downsized to a smaller home. Among the treasures was the butcher block.  I was thrilled and it was my favorite item in the lot.  When Sean & I (and baby Isabel*) moved to Morocco, many of the family treasures that weren't going with us were bequeathed to my brother, Jamie.  Now we are home.  

Jamie has a lovely home filled with lots of great finds, but it's that chopping block I'm always eyeing.  Though they have offered us everything back - I would never!  I don't want to be called naughty things. 

Then, last weekend, as we were meandering through a flea-market-type-thing by our home, I saw it.  The identical John Boos chopping block of childhood fame!  For $150.  You can't buy a John Boos cutting board for that little.  Sean's eyes met mine.  He knew exactly what I was thinking.  I knew exactly what he was thinking.  We have no money, and if we did, the last thing we need is a large chopping block.  We left chopping-block less.

I couldn't get it off my mind.  I mentioned it to my mom and she said "Go get it now.  I'll send you the money."  Even Sean was wavering.  I started stalking the seller.  Doing drive-bys of his little stall at the flea market, calling the number that was posted there.  Nothing.  Finally, yesterday I spotted the guy during my afternoon drive-by.  He was talking with a nice woman but I interrupted them.  

"Do you still have that chopping block?"

"Nope, gone."

Then the nice lady pipes up, "That's what I came for too."

It's a sad tale.  Still, I don't believe this is the end of the story.  

The spark has ignited, the search will go on. 

*names have been changed to protect the innocent

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