I just finished clearing out the last of the set of drinking glasses we received as a wedding gift nearly 20 years ago. The glasses were neither our style nor particularly pretty, however the set came with neither a gift receipt nor any visible sign as to where they were purchase. They were too distasteful to regift, and, well, we needed glasses. So, after our wedding, I unpacked, cleaned, and stacked the glasses next to the Corelle Dinnerware dishes I got in college, which we still have and use daily. When we moved to Pennsylvania eight years ago, I told B that I wanted new drinking glasses and that I did not want to unpack the remaining old, ugly and now dishwasher-frosted wedding-gift glasses, half of which had been broken over the years. But with little else to take their place, I unpacked the glasses. I also unpacked a set of green-stemmed water goblets my mother got as part of a gas station promotion in Oklahoma 12 years ago. I kinda liked the green ones, however, they were not child friendly, and in the years since the big move, all but three of those glasses also found their way into the great glass beyond. Our cabinet had become a mishmash of a few ugly glasses, a couple goblets, plastic tumblers, coffee mugs and beer schooners. Each sufficient as a beverage delivery vessel but hardly a stylish solution for the modern homemaker. Yesterday when B and I were out shopping, we happened down the glassware aisle at a department store. He stopped and said, “Didn’t you say you wanted new glasses?” I finally I got new glasses. Pretty ones, too.