Pass the Pyrex, pet

By James Douglass

Pyrex never really meant that much to me as a young boy, I was more interested in playing in the mud and messing around with cars. It was just another word I would hear from time to time. It’s funny that one word would come to form my future in many ways. I remember standing at my Nana’s kitchen cabinet helping her mix cakes, pastries, scones, pies, “fetch the Pyrex, pet”, she would always ask, and I would, not knowing anything about its history or local connections. Years later when starting my time at university, I would begin to realise how special that measuring jug was. I was gifted with my own jug, a rite of passage in my family it would seem, to take on my adventures to university. 6am after night shifts at the local night club, stumbling through my front door starving, scrambled eggs, trusty Pyrex as always. I began to understand the importance of Pyrex, the manufacture of the jugs, how it was formed, moulds, hot glass pouring and kiln firing all this because of my studies in Glass and Ceramics. I tried my best to produce my own glass jug but to no avail so I stuck to ceramics instead, making many a functional item but none ever as important as that Pyrex. Coming home for Christmas is always a special time; back to my Nana’s stood together some 20 years later cooking the Christmas dinner and of course the gravy needs to be made, “fetch the Pyrex, pet”. It’s strange how these things work as I sit here recording this message, as an employee of the National Glass Centre, I could be sitting in the very spot that my Pyrex was produced. I owe that thing a lot of thanks, through the good times and the bad it’s stood by me like a faithful old friend.