I admire her courage. My own potholders are so terribly stained, torn, and burnt, I'm ashamed to post a photo of them. However, admitting the existence of a problem is the first step towards recovery, so here goes:
|My name is Mrs. Micawber, and I have hideous potholders.|
I feel about pretty potholders as I do about white pants: too risky, and sure to be dripped upon. An ounce of avoidance is worth a pound of laundry detergent. I'd like to think my battle-scarred potholders are a sign of culinary dedication; I'm afraid what they really reveal is a lack of due care and a certain disregard of kitchen æsthetics.
But Lolly's brave pursuit of beauty has convicted me of cowardice. I am therefore setting myself this 2-step challenge:
Step 1: Make a beautiful potholder.
Step 2: Use it.
I will report my progress, if any, in this blog.