Those trays served me with distinction until a recent move, when, despite every effort to find them, they disappeared into the pocket universe that swallows up something or other during packing. I won't go so far as to call myself heartbroken when I realized they were gone, but I certainly felt a sense of loss. Good well-made things, even 10-buck pieces of plastic, have the power to make little household moments meaningful. Even when everything in your life is going to shit, there's a deep satisfaction that comes from refilling your ice cube trays with just the right stream of water from your faucet, snapping on those perfect lids, and returning them to the freezer with the comfort that yes, this is the right way to do this thing, everything about this is the best it could possibly be. This is good and under control and safe.