Mismatched Pans

When Blaine and I were first married, we received a set of pans. I used them all, but most often I reached for the little ones. Soon more children caused me to use the larger pans, and the little ones saw less use. In recent years, my most used pan was the largest, a 5.5 quart pot.

My mom called me last summer. She was at a rummage sale and there was a set of pans for $10. Yes, I want them. More pans in similar sizes to what I have would be amazing. So we found space in the pan cupboard and I quit having to cook things in separate smaller pans when the bigger ones were already in use or sitting in the fridge with chili in it.

The biggest pan in the new-to-me set is 8 quarts. I use it often. Tonight I had potatoes boiling in that, and I got out my old 5.5 quart pan for cauliflower. (Yep, still eating it. Forgot about it for a week. Oops.)

I had to dust off my no-longer most-used pan.

The seasons we go through are always changing. Typically painless, but always changing. Just like my once ignored, then most used, and now often ignored again pan, we move through phases of life. It’s ironic how what was once too big is now too small. (Rather like my old blue jeans, but that’s another story. Although maybe I’m needing larger ones for the same reason. That’s my story. Sticking to it.)

I’m feeling like a frog in a pot. (A very large pot, I suppose. Since we’re on the subject. Or perhaps it’s a very small pot, surrounded by tadpoles – and one prince charming, home from his travels.) So long as things change slowly, it’s easier to take, easier to adjust, easier to roll with the flow, but as we change, as we grow, some days I just look around in amazement at what my life is these days. It is busy, full, and tiresome. Tonight, the nine of us polished off six pounds of grilled chicken, 2 heads of cauliflower, and sixteen potatoes (mashed with six bulbs of roasted garlic, for the record. They were amazing.)  While my pan collection is mismatched and varied, and I’m going to be cooking supper in the stockpot soon, I’m thankful.

And tired. And in need of a bigger sink to wash bigger pots.