Cooking, watch, watch, cooking

I walked into our home at 4pm to the meaty clove smell of a pork shoulder slowly cooking in the crock pot. Donna started it earlier that day. Part of the pleasure of cooking is the anticipation felt when a big cut of meat, wrapped in white paper, sits on the counter the evening before, slowly thawing. Another great pleasure is using the pots and utensils that have been used to prepare meals for years and years. Today, Donna used the brown crock pot that I remember my mom using in my childhood to cook stews. When we cook small cuts in the oven, we use my grandmother's aluminum roasting pan. Donna's been using her pots and pans since college, and some of our tupperware still has my faint initials on them from when I shared a house with 6 people in Saranac Lake.
I sometimes wonder if some of the other old cookware in the family is being used.. or if they're in a closet that I could borrow from. My grandmother had a great pressure cooker that said "tshht tshht tshht" every holiday, and a nifty electric rotisserie that grandpa could slice thin samples right off of. Maybe I'll ask around this Christmas to see if any of these old things could use a new home in the family.