She came cheap and stayed strong. The little rubber feet on the bottom gave up the ghost a long time ago. Sheโs gone through dozens of batteries. Sheโs been wiped down after a thousand sticky-finger weighings and she never complained once.
She weighed every loaf I baked, every levain I built, every gram of salt and water and flour that became something worth eating. She didnโt ask for much. Just a flat surface and a fresh battery now and then.
But today, a new scale arrived. And as it goes with everything in this kitchen and in this life, the old gives way to the new. The circle continues.
Sheโll be missed.
If youโve got a few words for my faithful old scale, leave them in the comments. Pour one out for the bakersโ workhorses that quietly carry us through.
R.I.P., old friend. You weighed true.
Henry โญ๐ฅ