“No man can know where he is going unless he knows exactly where he has been and exactly how he arrived at his present place.” Maya Angelou
One of my favorite places in the world is my kitchen. Looking around my kitchen, I can see where I have been…the copper cookware and cookbooks that I have collected for years, the 75 year old china which was packed away through all my moves now sitting in my china cabinet, the refrigerator covered with magnets from my travels, a little wooden car made by my son 35 years ago…my personal history.
My present kitchen was built about 110 years ago and is a place of peace where I write sitting on a wrought iron high-backed stool with my notebook computer on my pub table looking out my open shuttered windows onto tree lined Maple Street. Since I came here about two years ago, I have done kitchen renovations such as painting and new flooring which put my personal imprint on the original charm of the house but the real investment which turns any house into a home is creating a place to store your past, present and future.
My kitchen is associated with my love for good food. Looking around I see my bag of coffee beans laying next to my coffee grinder where I left them after making coffee this morning. Also on the counter is a wooden bowl holding sweet potatoes, multicolored sweet peppers, and avocados ripening in a brown bag. In racks around the kitchen are spices and teas of every culture along with a few bottles of good wine. I love my kitchen!
Cookbooks are another of my loves. One of the first jobs I ever had was working as a bank teller (is that still a politically correct title) and as an incentive the bank gave the employee who opened the most new accounts each month a cookbook. That started my collection in 1968 and through the years it has grown…just ask anyone who has helped me move (I stopped counting at 40 moves… not cookbooks). A couple of days ago, a friend was letting go and he called to see if I wanted to go through his cookbooks… I added another shelf of fantastic treasures.
Are the cookbooks functional? Yes…last night I pulled out a french cookbook and spent an hour looking at pictures and reading recipes. And no…I do not have a television in my house. Music is a constant in my kitchen…I turn on my CD player and dance while preparing breakfast. Yes…I do cook and eat well in my kitchen.
My kitchen is real. It is filled with wood, glass, stone tile, wrought iron, and fresh foods. I removed artificial, microwave, and plastic gradually through the years. My kitchen is a reflection of me and my life…sometimes it gets a little cluttered and I have to take the time to clean it up while contemplating what changes I am ready to make.
Cooking and enjoying my kitchen is an art I did not learn at an early age. I did not grow up in a child (or adult) friendly house, it was more for looks and appearance than for comfort. In fact when I got married the first time at 18, I had never turned on a stove, washing machine, or vacuum cleaner. The first time I attempted to cook breakfast for my husband, he took one bite and emptied his plate in the dog bowl where the dog sniffed before walking away. It was not until I became comfortable in my own skin that I learned the art of being comfortable in my home.
My kitchen may sound like my haven for self-indulgence…it is! It is a place where living well is a lifestyle. Everyone needs a place of their own where we can be themselves and learn who we really are…A Beloved Child of God…rather than what and who the world tells us we are.
Invitation…my back door is always open…come on over! Have a cup of coffee or tea and just enjoy the blessings of life. The wooden “WELCOME” sign by my door means just that…everyone is welcome.
Love, Light & Lots of Laughter…Joa
www.joacarter.com
