My Mother's Kitchen


As I share another personal memory I hope you are enjoying getting to know me a little better. Remembering and/or recording happy personal memories can be a great depression getaway. This one is about the kitchen in the house where I grew up.

 Why?

 Well, I am reading a book called "Writing Through the Darkness" which is all about writing to help depression. I am not ready to recommend this book yet as I am still working through it.
However, one of the first assignments in the book is to describe the kitchen where I grew up. 

 I do remember it but not vividly even though it was our family kitchen for 11 years. But, when I turned 17 we remodeled the house and built a much bigger nicer kitchen and that is the one I have the vivid memories of.

And so, this post is more about memories than about that first kitchen. Now, if we had never changed that old kitchen I probably would have remembered it better, right?
Anyways, back to the old kitchen. It was what we call a galley kitchen and yet when I think of a galley I think of counters on both sides. (By the way, the picture above is not my old kitchen, just an example of a small kitchen like mine.) This had only one counter on one side and there was a sink in the middle and a stove to one end. The fridge was a few steps away in what we referred to as 'the back stoop' where we all entered our house. It was not a fancy kitchen. You couldn't really hang around in there if anyone else was there because it was so small. Maybe that is one of the reasons I do not have a vivid memory of it.

 But the newer kitchen - well now, that is a different story. We built that onto our house in 1967 and by today's standards, it was not a fancy kitchen at all. But compared to what we were used to it was wonderful. You stepped down into it from the dining room. That wide step down also served as extra seating when we were all gathered there. The workspace was along one wall only and quite simple. But on the other wall was a wonderful corner window with two rocking chairs and a small table. That is where the memories were made.

 You could sit and sip a cup of tea and chat with Mom while she worked. It was also a wonderful spot to sit and enjoy the wonderful view onto our big backyard, or watch for a visitor coming up the driveway. Unlike our old kitchen tucked in behind the stoop, this kitchen was a window to the world. At least it was a window to my world back then.

 Remembering the good stuff is a great depression getaway.

 WHAT ABOUT YOU? How are you doing today? Do you have some good memories? Can you recall every detail of the kitchen where you grew up?

 Don't give up! There is hope for depression.



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