Amish Butterprint Delights!

So, a month and a half ago or so, I was at Matt's parents' lake house, sitting on the couch reading my interwebs.  I was reading Caitie's blog, and she was writing about how she'd celebrated Bastille Day.  Caitie was making truffles (How fun is that?), but it wasn't the truffles that grabbed my attention: it was her bowl.  She was using this old-timey white bowl with a rooster on it.

Upon seeing the bowl, I blurted out--Veruca Salt style--that I wanted that bowl. 

Later that week Matt's mom and I went to a few antique shops, and I kept my eye out for the bowls, but had no luck.  But she told me that she was headed to Bouckville, an antique festival in New York, later on in the summer, and she'd look for them there.

I wish I could be all, "And then I completely forgot about them," but I can't.  I can't because I obsessed over the bowls.  I thought about them and fantasized about the beautiful roosters and imagined how beautiful they would look in my kitchen.  So when my [out of control wonderful] mother-in-law called me in the middle of the afternoon to tell me that she'd found an entire set of them, alternating in blue and white, asking if it was okay that some of them were blue.  Um, yes!  Yes, that's okay.  I squealed a little.  Okay, I squealed a lot. 

And when they arrived at our house on Friday afternoon I squealed some more.  I rushed to open the package--that contained not only the set of four, but also two additional mixing bowls--and just held the bowls and stared them.  And I pet them and ran my finger around the rims.  And I'd smile some more.  And then I'd squeal some more.  And then I'd call my friends to brag about what a great mother-in-law I have. 

(Note:  She's wonderful even when she isn't buying me incredible gifts.  She's kind and understanding and wise and reasonable and tells me when she disagrees with me.  She's a great shopping buddy and an enthusiastic listener and she raised a pretty great boy that I got to marry.  I love her.)

So here are the bowls. Their official name is Amish Butterprint, and they were made by Pyrex in the '50s. It's actually kind of ironic that I would be so in love with these bowls, considering how much I detest the Amish. (Cheaters. If you're reading this and you're Amish, you're just proving my theory that you're all dirty cheaters with bad haircuts and no buttons.)

Aren't they so pretty?  And just wait until you see how they go in the kitchen post facelift!