This rack has been a part of my whole life. Two of its drawers have shattered in its lifetime. Others have been precariously glued together.
When I see this rack, I think of our old kitchen and helping mom cook. Gently pulling out the drawers to get what mom needed. I loved the small drawers for the spices. Even just looking at these I smell nutmeg and cinnamon.
Now the rack is a pensioner. It just hangs there in our kitchen and every once in a while I look at it and smell mom’s cake.