Owls and rolling pins.

When I little and still living at home with all my family, I could never figure out what to buy anyone for Christmas or birthdays.  My brothers were impossible to buy for, Keith in particular; I always felt as though the things I bought for him insulted him on some level.  I just don't think they appreciated the time and effort I put in to trying to find gifts for everyone.  Honestly, it stressed me out.  I had limited funds and a very narrow selection of stores to choose from.  Every year I spent hours in our tiny mall, wandering aimlessly, searching.  I never felt completely satisfied that my family would like what I had finally chosen.

I think my Mom must have regretted ever telling us that she liked owls.  She must have received dozens of owl figurines over the years.  They were everywhere in our house.  I tried to be creative when thinking of what to get her, but I seldom did any better than an owl figurine.  One year, I decided to glue a bunch of cotton balls together to try to make her a rabbit.  I thought it turned out great; it was white and soft and fluffy, the way a rabbit should be.  I put it in a box and wrapped it.  When my Mom opened it, she pulled out the rabbit and looked underneath, paused, and looked at me quizzically.  I realized that the rabbit looked more like a big bunch of that fluffy packing that goes overtop of a real gift.  You can laugh, it's funny.

My friend Kate's Mom owned a kitchen supply store called the Kitchen Shelf (such a great name for a kitchen supply store) and one year I decided to buy my Mom something special.  Kate's Mom Jenni helped me pick it out.  I remembered that my Mom had mentioned something about a marble rolling pin.  Now, I don't recall exactly that she said she wanted it.  She may have just remarked at how nice they were.  But for some reason, the marble rolling pin stuck in my head and I decided it was the gift.  For the record, I did the same thing with a spring-form cake pan one year; I don't remember eating a lot of fancy spring-form cakes...

Marble rolling pins are heavy.  I'm not sure exactly how much that rolling pin weighed,  but it was at least ten pounds and I was ten or eleven years old and shrimpy.  I left the store and started walking and that marble rolling pin just got heavier and heavier.  By the time I got home, my arms were pumped out and they were sore for a couple days afterward.  I was so proud of myself.

I know my Mom liked the marble rolling pin and I think she was impressed that I remembered that she had liked it.  I also know that kitchen gifts for a Mom aren't always the most exciting gifts to receive.  Ho-hum at best.  But in my mind, it was the best gift I ever gave her (that and the ceramic piggy-bank that looked like pastel-coloured, patchwork owls).

I was downtown today running errands and I ended up in Haute Cuisine, my favourite kitchen supply store.  I was looking for some Christmas-themed cookie cutters and an icing set (piping bags and tips) so that Sonja and I can make cookies for Santa.  While I was there, I thought about a new rolling pin, since I only have a thin, light, French-style pin.  It's great, but a heavier rolling pin makes rolling out stiff cookie dough a lot easier.  I started looking, and I was suddenly overcome in the memory I just retold in this post: I was looking at pretty much the same marble rolling pin I gave my Mom.  I bought it without a second thought and I can't wait to use it.  I also can't believe I carried one of these home all those years ago; this thing is effin' heavy.