This week...

Right now, I'm in mourning for my kitchen. Due to circumstances out of my control, I've had to make a move back with some family. So I'm slowly, quietly, plotting a hostile take-over.

I would even use my grief as a cloak!

Sure, I have my spices, my precious non-stick pan. But the disappearance of my knives has been heartrending. I've been digging through every box I can find, cursing to high heavens for that little Japanese chopper. I'm a simple creature; I just want a good chopping knife, a good pan, and ve-ge-tables.


On the upside, I'm sneaking more organic vegetables into Grandma's kitchen. She's looking at me quite confusedly, as she says: " I'm not as fussy as you are. I just like my corn and my ham." Okay, sure. But in my snobbery, I'm thinking about the little Turkish place, the Indian food, the bread that I used to bake. I'm envious of cupboards and silverware drawers. I'm digging, digging, and sorting.

I'm trying to take this as a test of my constitution...more specifically, my endurance and patience. I realized that I've had a good two years. My kitchen which once felt too small, too disorganized, and frankly alien became my bat-cave. It is the symbol of Home and the labor of my loves.

Also, there is this:

The Back is me, the kitten is Deimos. 

In my kitchen I tried to make goodness for those people in my life, as well as use it to support what I chose. I would buy as much organic dairy as I could (to support healthy cows, as well as my cheese addiction!) and I would eat lots and lots of mushrooms and fewer chickens. When I went to clean a chicken or bake a fish,  I'd try to be grateful.

 This is now a new form of growth--reaching out, compromising, and explaining why it is good to grow one's own herbs, and how much better raspberries can taste. Sharing garlic, sea salt and rosemary bread :

I really can't say anything more than yum! 

And this, too, shall pass.