The legend of the tole-painted plate

tole painted plate

It’s legendary in our household–the tale of the tole-painted plate.

Years ago, when Dave and I were first dating, I had taken a folk art painting course. I was terrible at it, but my instructor was very talented and at the end of the course I bought a beautiful tole-painted plate of a wintry scene.

It was December and because I felt so guilty spending money on myself before Christmas, I wrapped up the plate, wrote “To Dave” on the tag and tucked it under the tree.

To this day, I still hear about it, but somehow all three of us–Dave, me and the plate have survived 27 years of marriage.

I think he secretly cherishes the tole-painted plate. He says every time he looks at it he thinks what a lame gift it was and that I’m psychologically scarred because I can’t just buy something for myself and feel good about it.

My response is at least I don’t buy ice fishing huts and gear and hide them in the barn from my wife.

This week’s #HappyAct is when you’re out frantically finding that perfect last minute gift for the someone special on your list, buy a little something for yourself. I do have one little problem this year though. The thing I bought for myself I can’t exactly write “To Dave” on the tag. Guess I’ll have to give it to myself from Bella. Dogs are very good shoppers after all.

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3 thoughts on “The legend of the tole-painted plate

  1. Ha ha, on our first Christmas together in our house in 1994 I bought a certain un-named person a decorative plate for Christmas because it was the same style as his grandma’s teapot that he admired over and over. Well, he was bewildered about why I bought him that plate and then I was confused because I honestly thought it was a good present and then I was kind of embarrassed when he told everyone and they looked at me like I was weird. I can kind of laugh about it now but I still think it was a good present! Thanks for sharing your story of the plate that I have seen at your house countless times.

  2. One christmas Michael Carlevale presented me with a blue velvet hatbox with an enourmous bow on it. I was so overwhelmed by the thought of the Bowler hat that I was sure was inside.
    Michael was a resturantuer and food was everything to him. It was at a time when there were many occasions that a Bowler would have been the ideal accessory.
    Finally from under the tree came the beautiful blue velvet hatbox and with delicate anticipation I opened it up and out emerged the most extravagant Panetone I had ever seen.
    It took a long time for me to understand how much the special Italian cake meant to Michael to give it as a gift and I cherish every mouthful when I eat a piece of Panetone now.
    I still use the box for my most loved hats

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