The nasty cold bug has been dutiful in its rounds this season. It reared its ugly head in mid December, late January and again just a couple weeks later. I pray the encroaching spring will be kinder.
One morning earlier this month I staggered from bed, my head pounding, my chest aching. I could feel the house quake with each cough coming from all ends of the house. A haze of funk loomed over our street, the neighborhood steeped in miasma. What I needed was to return to the warm confines of my bed. But I was so desperate to escape hibernation. I went to the kitchen in search of a suitable source of caffeine. What I found left me speechless. So speechless in fact, that I grabbed my camera.
From that moment on, my kitchen has had little chance to recuperate. Between recoveries, each member of the family has done their part to reduce the sink to little more than an In-Sink-Erator; yet we have no disposal. Often I come to find the basin filled with cereal, milk, tea bags and floaters of an unknown origin and then see that the drain stoppers are sitting out of harm’s way on the counter. How did this happen? When did animals take up residence in this house? This whole situation is much like going to the gym; you only see results when you commit to go every day. Except in this analogy, it’s like I have to expect my entire family to work out every day just so I can lose ten pounds!
It may take a while before my kitchen becomes what it once was; an acceptably messy, lived-in room that serves its purpose adequately. I long for the days when making a cup of tea doesn’t require clamping a clothes pin to my nose just to empty the sink so that I can wash a mug.
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