The title also applies to the written word as well. We all have certain expectations when we hear something, we create a picture in our head based on our biases, and beliefs. A couple of months ago, I stumbled article that made me try to review why I thought what I did, about a story mom told, and it has nothing to do with adoption.
Backing up a bit: It all started with looking into the history of some salt-glazed crocks that I have. I wanted to find out how old they were, and if I had made a good deal that day I spotted them in the little antique shop I visited often on my way home from work. That day, I was getting ready to move into the home I am in now, a bigger home, but lacking in storage areas. I wandered around the shop and didn’t see anything in particular, so on my way out, I stopped to say thank you to the owners for letting me browse – and there they were, three different Medalta crocks in wonderful condition, 10 gallon with handles, 3 gallon, 1 gallon – and they all had their original lids. They had just come in and hadn’t even been priced – I took them home. They are in my kitchen and I’d be lost without them. (Here is a picture of a 5 gal with handles and lid.) Anyways…
Now to the story: Mom lived by the ocean growing up, during the depression, long before every home had an electric refrigerator. That background allowed me to make some fantastic leaps with this very simple story mom tells each time crocks come up in the conversation How she dreaded when her mom would tell her to go eggs from the crock in the root cellar, how she hated putting her hand into the dark, cold, slippery, slimy water grass. I made the leap that it was some type of ocean grass and salt water they used back in the old days to preserve the eggs. I could picture it in my head, it all fit, she lived by the ocean, the ocean water is salty, salt is a preservative, there are grasses in the sea. Turns out, I was so far off base it wasn’t funny, she wasn’t saying water grass, rather, water-glass which has nothing to do with salt water or grass. For the record, I can’t imagine preserving eggs that way, if your interested google “water glassing eggs” and you will find some interesting posts on the subject of how they preserved eggs a long time ago – not would I recommend it, or try it, because it sounds terrible, and not so safe to me. It does make me ever so glad I have always lived in the era of refrigeration where my eggs are kept safe.
I re-learned a valuable lesson though – never assume you know what the other person is talking about, or, describing, or, even that you heard the right words…
Now I’m off to watch a game I am looking forward too – Happy Sunday!