Bouillon Cup, & the presumption of good

“Etiquette requires the presumption of good
until the contrary is proven.” 
– Emily Post

___________________

I. Soup on the Rails

The mysteries of thrift! 
I brought home this double-handed cup, because the (defunct) Soo Line railway was based here in Minneapolis. 
I thought it was for drinking coffee on lurching trains, but bink informed me two handles = bouillon cup.

I was dubious, but she's right. From Emily Post’s “Etiquette”:

“Soup at luncheon is never served in soup plates, but in two-handled cups. It is eaten with a teaspoon or a bouillon spoon [ital mine], or after it has cooled sufficiently, the cup may be picked up.
It is almost always a clear soup: in the winter, a bouillon, turtle soup, or consommé, and in the summer, a chilled soup such as jellied consommé or madrilène.”
--From My Auction Finds

A bouillon spoon? NOW I NEED A BOUILLON SPOON!

And, from "Emily Post Etiquette" on substack:

 

The Soo Line wasn't primarily a passenger service. According to the MN Historical Society, it carried grain and timber thru the upper Midwest and connected with the Canadian Pacific (CP) Railway. 
On Soo + CP, you could travel from Mpls. to Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan [via]. I wish we still could.

The co. formed in 1888 as the Minneapolis, St. Paul & Sault Ste. Marie Railway Company--M.St.P.&S.S.M.--known as the Soo Line––after the phonetic spelling of 'Sault'.

I see cups like mine on railway-collectibles sites for $35. 
I paid 49¢ . . . because we know nothing and don't care.

II. Off the Rails

I feel alone at work.
I miss Ass't Man, I realized yesterday. I think that's underlying me feeling blue lately.
Ass't Man was kinda my work husband, and even though it was a bad marriage, we shared a good love:
we both delighted in and were curious about thrift--and no one else does.
(Not entirely true-- Clothes Alice loves vintage clothes and textiles, and I appreciate that.)

I'm still glad Ass't Man divorced himself from me and the store a couple months ago.
I wish it had been otherwise though. I wish that when I'd told him I was uncomfortable about what he did and said when drunk that he'd said, "I need to do--am going to do--something about my drinking", instead of what he did say: "You are the problem."

But that's what he did say, and then he quit, and that's the way it went.
You presume good until the contrary is proven.
And when it's proven, it behooves you to believe it. But that doesn't mean you're not sad about it.
You can't take the train from Mpls. to Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan, anymore either.

I feel better admitting to myself that I am sad about it.