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About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write.
Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground.
 
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Daily Cascade #1083647 added February 10, 2025 at 12:37pm
Restrictions: None
My Kitchen: Then and Now
Prompt: Kitchen
"The kitchen really is the castle itself. This is where we spend our happiest moments and where we find the joy of being a family."
Mario Batali
What are your feelings about your kitchen? And/or what is your kitchen like?
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My now-kitchen is a long corridor in a large one-story house. In fact, it is the smallest of kitchens I've worked in. I don't know who'd put a small kitchen in a big house! In fact, the people who owned the house before us were members of a club and they always ate there, in the club. So the kitchen they kept stayed brand new.
We liked this house because, at the time when we bought it, it was just my husband and I, after retirement, and I worked in this kitchen alone, which turned out to be quite efficient because I could reach to things just by twisting around without taking too many steps.
As to "the kitchen being a castle itself," we had such a kitchen in Long Island, NY, when our sons were growing up. That kitchen was quite large and it had a dining table for eight people in the middle of it. We used that kitchen for just about anything, but mostly I cooked in it while we talked and joked. Even our kids brought their friends to sit at that table in the middle to tell me all about their escapades while I chopped food or stirred the pot. Then, during those wonderful times, my whole family ate the same meal with tiny adjustments for each person, mostly inside that kitchen, unless and if--on occasion--,we wanted to eat in the dining room.
Well, no more! At this stage in my life, since I'm mostly the only permanent occupant of this last-house and since my kids' palates took diverse turns lately, gone are the "same-family-meal" days. Luckily, my sons visit me often. In fact, one of them stays a couple of months at a time. I'm so very blessed with that.
When my sons are visiting, however, it is a circus. One son is a vegetarian on the edge of being a vegan. The other one is going to some gym and about 90% of his diet is animal based. And I don't have my husband around anymore to pull all of us together. So, we try to manage by taking turns cooking our own food in my now-corridor-like kitchen.
Still, it is a good-enough life with a good-enough kitchen, be it corridor-like. As a Dan Fogelbird song says:
"Down the ancient corridors through the gates of time, run the ghosts of dreams that we have left behind."
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