The Dancing Pot –

"The pot is dancing!", my grandmother would excitedly exclaim. A very young child, I would respond with wide-eyed glee, as the pot did, indeed, dance to a loud, lively tempo, on the old coal and wood-burning stove in my grandmother’s kitchen. A magnificent piece of invention and wearing a handsome gird of chromed steel all around the top, the stove stood on four sturdy, fancily-curved legs and had four round steel ‘plates’ on top, which were opened with a heavy-duty latching tool. I don’t know what the stove lids and opener tool were actually called. Venting the smoke from the stove to the outdoors was a fat galvanized pipe; it had a damper lever on it. The surface of the stove would sometimes glow red with heat and the lids had to be opened with care, to tend the fire within. Crackling and popping noises could be heard, depending on what fuel was being burned. My grandmother’s kitchen was such a blessed and magical place.

Once in a great while, the modern and lovely electric range in my kitchen produces a dancing pot; it is a rare happening – comical and poetic in a way.