My life’s work seems to unfold in the kitchen, seems appropriate as it’s absolutely the heartbeat of our home. It’s where I find myself first place in the morning brewing that pot of coffee, all throughout the day to feed and nourish myself and those around me, and last place at night, cleaning up or not (I’m not always the best at cleaning up, there’s always so much to do) for the next day to repeat.
Sean proposed to Caroline Saturday, November 4th, 2017 with all of us seated at the kitchen table as witness and he on one knee. Ethan and Lindsey recently announced on Friday, November 6th, 2020, when they came for a simple chicken pot pie dinner, both of them standing between the kitchen sink and the range, that they are having a precious baby. Woot!
Both days included champagne.
In between there were about eleven hundred days, or one thousand ninety-eight days to be exact, or three thousand two hundred ninety-four meals to be made, of all kinds of different kitchen happenings, most of them happy, some sad, some anxious, a few of them I thought I might never get through, all of them days I would never give back.
I’m writing this to remind myself that life happens within the parameter of our routines. That the routine of constantly planning and prepping and chopping and stirring and serving can yield extraordinary results.
Our oldest son and his beautiful love are having their first child this coming June, and that, for us, is one little part of the moon and back.
Every day dress, all in the kitchen.