I should have trusted my nose

It's like a train wreck or a car accident, right? The carnage is devastating, but you cannot look away.
My grandmother gave me these, her precious Tupperware measuring cups (from nineteen-ought-six) almost 10 years ago. She was moving out of her home as it had gotten to be too much for her. She was nearly 90 at that point. I promptly chucked my Wal-Mart cheapies and got to baking with these lovely Harvest Gold babies.
I've been washing them in the dishwasher for years and never thought anything about it. The day before yesterday, I noticed a funky-burning-plastic smell coming from my dishwasher. Being the trusting individual that I am, I ignored it. When I unloaded the dishwasher yesterday, I found that this little guy had somehow fallen off of the top rack and ended up down near the heating element.
Mystery of the Funky-Burning-Plastic Smell Solved!
Ugh. I have some guilt because these were a hand-me-down from my Grandma. I can hear her now, tsk-tsking because I didn't take better care of them. Or maybe she's looking down on me, saying, "Shannon, they are older than you. Don't worry about it." Either way, no more dishwasher for this little guy. He can still work for me, although I don't think he'll stack as nicely as he used to!

Testing

I am getting all high tech here.  Posting from my email account.

Mostly, I just want to complain because both of my kids' games were cancelled for tonight and now the flipping sun is out.  Eight rainouts between my two kids.  My son has had more rainouts than games played.  This stinks.
 

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I reject your reality and substitute my own. 

Red Boots

My husband's grandmother is an absolutely awesome lady with a style all her own. She loves sequins and costume jewelry and bright, vibrant colors. She loves ornate lampshades and antique glass and everything QVC. She recently had this fantastic idea: she wants my daughter to have some professional photos taken in some of her fancy clothes. Grandma gave us a stack of hat boxes almost 4 feet high, containing some real gems, including a hat from the 20's and a full-length sequined dress. But, by far, my favorite item that has been added to my daughter's dress-up bin has to be these red boots. Grandma used to wear these boots to her Red Hat Society meetings. Can you stand it? A 70+ year-old-woman in these red boots?
This makes me smile and gives me hope. When I am an old woman, I too will wear purple and red and frankly, whatever the hell I want. Because, really. Why shouldn't we wear what makes us feel fun and fabulous?