I once saw a sign in a catalog that said, “I have a kitchen
only because the house came with one.” Except for the occasional holiday, that
pretty well describes me. If I didn’t like eating so much, I’d give up cooking.
I’ve actually considered that. My house is maybe two blocks
from a mall and a major highway. Six restaurants are within easy walking
distance and another eight are a reasonable hike. A short drive takes me to so
many more I can’t even count them. I can buy sandwiches, Chinese food, Mexican
food, seafood, southern cooking, pizza, Japanese food… It just goes on and on. And
the prices are reasonable. I could actually eat restaurant food more cheaply
than I can cook at home if I made good use of doggy bags.
However, I can’t get a wide variety of low calorie, low salt
meals in a restaurant. So I have to use my kitchen—albeit minimally.
But my kitchen is much like the rest of my house—straight
out of the ‘70s., closed in and dark with harvest gold counter tops. Only two
changes have been made to the original design—the former owners painted the oak
cabinets white, and I had sheet vinyl installed that looks so much like
distressed pine that a visiting carpenter had to bend down and feel to make
sure it wasn’t wood. It really made the white cabinets pop.
My dream is to bring the kitchen into the 21st century. I
have plans that include ripping out a cupboard so I can have room for a larger
fridge (the old one is very small and was in the house when we moved in 15
years ago) and ripping out the wall between the kitchen and dining room to let
in light from the glass deck doors.
I don’t know how many more years Hubby and I will be able to
climb the stairs to the top floor of the bi-level, but for now the stairs
provide exercise we both need, even if I breathe a little hard when I get to
the top. In the meantime, I hope to make a home that meets our needs with
beauty and character. And I hope to leave it someday a little better than it
was when we moved in.
