Friday, December 10, 2010

Something Lovely: The Kitchen Sink


Challenged by the post on kitchen flow and a pretty sink over at Like Mother, Like Daughter, and loving the practical wisdom she shares, Ally and I spent yesterday afternoon working in the kitchen.  I don't have a logical bone in my body so I needed Ally, my girl of "infinite-resource-and-sagacity" (that's Kipling, we were reading yesterday and it suits her).  As soon as I mentioned traffic flow and awkwardly arranged cupboards Ally had a whole list of problems, and therefore several days worth of projects and improvements.  We swapped the brown dishes and Grandma Lake's crystal, so that the brown dishes can come right out of the dishwasher and into the cupboard.  Ally also built a strong case for switching the microwave and toaster.  She mentioned how difficult it is to get to the microwave when I'm at the stove; true.  I've been thinking, the morning crowd around the toaster pushes me back from the coffee grinder, and maybe separating the toaster and coffee maker, by bringing the microwave over isn't a half bad idea.  I'll do that tomorrow.  Finally, Ally wanted to reorganize the entire pantry which is quite a chore.  Someone designed our entire kitchen without one shelf high enough to fit a cereal box, and the whole pantry went downhill from there.
     Yesterday's kitchen challenge resolved another problem here, that of Ally's morning chore.  She does breakfast dishes.  She likes to get up early, eat, do her chore and sit right down to math; and can I really complain about that?  But, most of us eat breakfast later and at nine I'll ask,"Why haven't you done the breakfast dishes?"  With a knowing smile she always tells me that she did.  Indeed.  So, yesterday we decided Ally can empty the sink and dishwasher, leave the kitchen clean, and when the rest of us straggle through around eight, we'll put our own dishes in the dishwasher.  It's so deliciously simple I don't know why we've been letting this cloud hang over our heads.

     I've been the Christmas Grinch this year, but all of this put me in a good mood.  I baked Grandma Lake's stollen (with dried fruit instead of candied).  I pulled out Great Grandma Bush's nativity set.  And we all trooped out to the woods, next to the soccer field, of course, and cut greens for the windowsill.  It's all good, that Grinch heart grew just a couple of sizes.

     When the time came to blog today, I hesitated.  We have such an ugly counter top, with the same theme running into the garden window behind the sink.  I just knew it couldn't compare with all the lovely (newer) ones out there.  There are also claims being thrown around that the filming of the Lego battle broke Ally's camera and it just didn't work the way it ought to.  And my camera?  It's out of batteries.  All photos are taken by Ally a wonderful girl of 13 and of infinite-resource-and-sagacity.  However, in a spirit of gratitude I'll just post what I have and hold my head high.


  1. Well, hmmm...what *could* be wrong with these photos? They are beautiful!

    The windowsill is lovely with the nativity and greenery -- it all looks clean and tidy and sweet. I love your account of how you and your daughter tackled the "flow" issues -- how great to have such wonderful companion who enters into your world with such energy!

    And anytime you think your counters are lame, come visit mine! At least yours aren't *white*!!!


  2. I don't know why you don't like your counters and/or pictures...I think they look beautiful! I love the nativity on the windowsill, and all the greenery.

  3. Gorgeous! Such a beautiful nativity and setting....a haven for washing dishes.

    Linking up from Like Mother, Like Daughter.

    Have a lovely week, Tamara

  4. My husband and I have been laughing over the counters. They really are cracked and peeling. It's amazing how good you can make things look by zooming in on the right spots. He says even he is amazed by the photos. But I am thankful for your kind words, and encouraged that not everybody else has a perfect kitchen. Maybe just a camera with a zoom lens.