Wednesday October 12 2016  KITCHEN MEMORIES

Loud thunder and brilliant lightening greeted our early morning hours.  Dave and I were both up early due to nature’s stereo being turned up so high.  As I was leaning against the bathroom sink, a hot water compress covering my eyes, I could hear the cascade of rain pelting on autumn’s destruction of our fern garden through the open bathroom window.  It sounded like gentle secrets caressing the earth.

From the other end of the house I could hear Dave taking the clean dishes from the dishwasher and putting them away.  All else was silent.  The gentle rain and the sounds coming from the kitchen lulled me back through time.  My journey took me back, one by one, to all the kitchens of bygone houses, bygone bits of life, and bygone years.  A gentle peace accompanied my thoughts as the visual images of the past came flooding in.

My kitchen of today looks out toward the street, through the leaves of the big old maple tree out front.  The kitchen from our last house covered the entire wall above the sink and looked out past our deck, that was suspended on stilts, to a view which encompassed a vast nature preserve, the inland waters of the Carquinez Strait* where the moth ball fleet was anchored in the distance.  We were at the top of the highest hill in the Martinez, Pleasant Hill, and the Walnut Creek area in Northern California.  I remember many days looking down and watching the eagles soaring below us.  Often we were above the thick fog and it appeared we were peering down from heaven looking at the top of the clouds.

The house before that was a rental house we stayed in while Dave was in a transition job on a temporary assignment.  Again we were high up but our kitchen window faced the back yard which continued to climb even higher.  The entire yard was covered with ivy that grew thick and profusely covering both the front and back yard to the delight of the snail population.  We challenged our daughter to gather snails for us and we would pay her a penny a piece if she counted them.  She diligently found as many as she could in one day.  She collected bags of them and her count was 1,300.  She earned a whopping $13.00!  She threw them in the garbage can in the garage.  She did not close the garbage can lid. 

Early the next morning I went out into the garage to hustle the kids to school and the entire garage was sliming with snails in every direction!  I kid you not; they were everywhere.  And guess who got to pick them up!  After I dropped the kids off at school I came home to the hardest $13.00 our daughter ever earned.  I didn’t get paid for picking them up the second time.  When I threw them in the garbage can I put the lid on very tight!

The kitchen before the rental house described above was the second home we bought.  We lived there for 10 years and it where we brought both of our children home from the hospital when they were born.  The window was above the kitchen sink and the counter. The window was 10 feet wide and looked out on a block wall which stood on our property line about 6 feet beyond the window.  The wall was about 6 feet high.  About 10 feet beyond the wall was another large two story house with the bedrooms looking down into our un-curtained kitchen window.  That house was on a high hill and was located in the Santa Ana Canyon of Southern California.  We lived in the pathway of the famous Santa Ana Winds.**  Our back yard was high and we had a view across the valley to the Anaheim Hills crowded with stair-steps of homes carved on the opposite hillsides.  Most days our view was a valley of smog.  Many days would pass when we couldn’t even see the homes across the valley; except after the Santa Ana winds.  Then it was crystal clear. 

Outside our kitchen window was a very nice ledge that served only one purpose.  That was where our two cats would hang out.  Dave was unable to have the cats in the house due to allergies but the cats were ever faithful, knowing they would have moments of loving touches from me and that their meals were always on time.  That is the house we lived in when our two year old son drug a chair the length of the kitchen over uneven brick floors and licked the frosting off an entire round cake decorated for a cake walk later than night.  That’s a whole story in itself.

The kitchen in our very first home was on the flatlands of the Anaheim area.  We bought a brand new house and it was like a dream to me.  Remember, growing up I had never lived in a home owned by my family.  This was my first home in my entire life that I lived in which was not a rental.  Dave and I moved in six months after we were married.  The early seventies look was the “IN LOOK”.  I papered the adjacent family room area (which we used as a formal dining room) with bold yellow and orange wallpaper that went up to the slanting roof line of our house.  The kitchen looked into the family room.  The sink was positioned in the white tiled bar that divided the kitchen from the family room.  There was a large double sliding glass door on the far wall of the family room that overlooked the uneven dirt and rocks of our un-landscaped side yard.   Whatever I looked at during that time of my life really didn’t matter.  I was just in love with life and the new world that awaited Dave and me.  In other words I was immature and didn’t have a clue as to what I was doing.  Actually, that was a tough year for us as I adjusted to married life. 

And as far as our married life goes there is only one more kitchen to remember.  Our first residence was an apartment in Anaheim California a couple of miles from Disneyland.  Alas, there were no windows above our kitchen sink.  As I washed dishes I looked at a solid wall.  But there were a lot of other things we were focused on during that first six months of our married life that kept us quite busy; and we were seldom in the kitchen. 

Each kitchen holds its own memories.  I so loved being in all the kitchens of each place I lived.  I love cooking, making new recipes, and having people over so I can let them try my “experiments”.  I learned the hard way that I must experiment at least once with a recipe BEFORE I use it as company fare. 

The kitchen is the heart of our home.  I enjoy our kitchen because it is large, open, has places to sit at the bar, has an eat-in area and is outfitted with all that I need to easily prepare meals.  We had our kitchen updated in the late 1980’s and so I’ve been told it is ready to have another update.  HOWEVER…and this is a big however, I like my kitchen just the way it is.  I have conceded to having the wallpaper removed (a nice small subtle flower print) and having the walls painted.  But that is all I desire to have done.  I love my Formica counter tops, the built-in stove top, built in ovens, and the stainless steel sinks.  I have lots of counter space, three pull-out cutting boards, lots of storage space with pull out drawers, and a very inefficient refrigerator that I would like to replace.  However, the fridge is quite new so we plan to keep it for a few more years.

The memories I love most are the sounds and smells of the kitchen; the talking and laughter, the cooking and the crowding of people, and the smell of sweet potatoes caramelizing in the oven as onions and garlic simmer on the stove.  And I especially love the sound of my husband putting the dishes away.  It is a sweet sound to me.  Oh, and one more thing.  I love coming home at night from a function and walk into the lingering aroma from the soup I made earlier in the day.

 

SO MUCH FOR WHICH TO BE THANKFUL

Kathleen Martens

October 12, 2016

www.visionsofpoetry.com

 

There is so much more I could say

About the sounds of life’s bustle

And all the stories of my life

While preparing food with all the hustle.

 

A place to keep things cold

A stove on which to cook.

And for whatever pot I need

I simply must take a look.

 

Utensils of choice for special jobs,

Mixers and squeezers, and measuring cups,

Bowls and spatulas, whisks and knives,

And plates on which to sup.

 

Spices galore grace my cupboards,

And containers of this and that,

Salt and pepper, flower and meal

And sugars that will make me fat.

 

Grains and beans await their turn

For a recipe to turn up

So they too can do their part

Measured out by the cup.

 

I am so grateful for all I have,

Especially the food that is ready to eat.

But I often turn my thoughts to others

Who live in poverty and defeat.

 

Those who have no food to prepare,

And go to bed without a meal,

And maybe not even a place to live,

No house or garden to till.

 

So many hungry in our world

Who starve more each day.

How can I help those who hunger?

How can I send food their way?

 

I cannot save the entire world,

But when I do even a small part

It garners strength when others pitch in

To help many have a new start.

 

And as I cook in my house

On a stove with glistening pots,

I never want to forget about helping

All those, who have not.

 

So give some thought beyond doors

And give every chance you can

To feed a hungry child abroad,

Or a local woman or man.

 

Food Pantries need donations,

Buy something extra to give away.

Even here close to home

Many need help along the way.

 

Be thankful for all you have,

For every morsel of food available to you.

Give thanks to God for providing

And every meal say a “THANK YOU” too.

 

Thank You God for all the food I have to eat.

Thank You for my garden box that comes during the summer.

Thank You for a kitchen in which to cook my food.

Thank You for the conveniences we have available in our homes.

Thank You for land that grows new crops each year.

Thank You God for You and Your mighty wisdom.

 

GOOD NIGHT AND GOD BLESS YOU.

*The Carquinez Strait is a narrow tidal strait in northern California. It is part of the tidal estuary of the Sacramento and the San Joaquin rivers as they drain into the San Francisco Bay. Wikipedia

 

**The Santa Ana winds are strong, extremely dry down-slope winds that originate inland and affect coastal Southern California and northern Baja California. Santa Ana winds blow mostly in autumn and winter, but can arise at other times of the year also. The winds originate from cool, dry high-pressure air masses in the Great Basin. The winds are known especially for the hot dry weather (often the hottest of the year) that they bring in the fall, and are infamous for fanning regional wildfires. For these reasons, they are sometimes known as the “devil winds” across Southern California. Wikipedia