One of the ways I like to make myself crazy is by fretting about my small kitchen. It’s one of my “if onlys.” If only my kitchen were bigger, all my problems would be solved and life would be perfect. Sigh. I feel foolish having bought this house, with the skinny little galley. We were off all special diets. I was sick of cooking. I loved the rest of the house and didn’t care about the kitchen so much. What was I thinking?
Recently, we had the counter tops replaced and a dishwasher put in, and that has taken a lot of pressure off. It’s livable. It’s do-able. We are back on the Specific Carb Diet though, and I am always in the kitchen, and often fall into the trap of victim over it. Two people can’t really work in it. A kid coming in and standing around while I cook is annoying as hell. We have a barstool shoved into a corner and they are allowed to sit on it or get out. It seems they are forever in my way. Todd and I do alright. We have no problem brushing up against each other, grabbing each other by the hips and steering one another out of the way. We have a rythym. Anyone else and it feels like we’re billard balls crashing into each other.
But the kitchen has many good qualities. The cabinets are old and sturdy and deep and there is ample space. I’ve got cabinets that are still empty. Who can say that? And there is a good deal of counter space. And my dishwasher door opens to within inches of the sink across the way, so there are no drips on the floor moving dishes from sink to dishwasher. And my new countertops are pretty. And there is a generous eat in area just around the corner from the galley. And, HT put in a window unit a couple of weeks ago so I wouldn’t melt to death during the heat wave. And we have plenty of food. And running water. And life really isn’t so bad.
This morning, I was sitting on our deck, having coffee and ruminating about my kitchen. Doing the “if only.” And I thought about a family I saw in O Magazine. Oprah had visited India and a family of five was living in a 10 x 10 foot room in the slums of Mumbai. Their whole living space was about the size of our eat in area around the corner from the galley. It was their kitchen, living room, bedroom, their everything. Three kids. Two adults.
I decided I would print out the photo and hang it in my galley. I decided I would look at it every time I felt myself about to complain.
One day I do want a really kick ass kitchen. I’m not giving up on that dream.
But for now, I will look at that photo, and appreciate the heck out of what I already have.