Some time ago, I noticed a renovated, attractive business that was put in on a corner we passed every day on the way to town. I commented that I was glad they replaced the tire shop that had been there. An artistic sign was put up, with a collection of images of varied sizes and shapes of bottles. It even said, "The Bottle Shop."
Being something of a collector of bottles, I remarked, "I would like to go look at their bottles," Then it dawned on me that it was a liquor store!
I recalled a dim memory of a story in an elementary reader about a bottle shop where a man created bottles by heat and a blowing device. My eight-year-old imagination was captivated by the colorful pictures and graceful shapes of the bottles. I think that is where my fascination for bottles began.
A friend likes a chicken recipe for coq au vin, and she surreptitiously visits a liquor store for this ingredient, hoping no one will see her and get the wrong idea. But now grocery stores sell liquor anyway.
My husband has been wanting a waffle iron, and he bought one yesterday since my old one needed to be replaced. We couldn't wait to use it this morning and looked forward to breakfast. We figured out the instructions and soon had some lovely waffles on our plates. Then I remembered we had no syrup! I searched the cupboards and found a couple of empty bottles with barely a smidgen in the bottom. We made do, and enjoyed the crispy treats. Now I will have to go to the store for a new bottle. Not that kind!
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