Sunday, 15 May 2011

A fire and armchairs is all I need.


I sat today at the Kitchen table and read my book as my mum bustled around me cooking dinner. There was a comforting mingle of voices from the radio, the growing intensity of steam from the kettle as it boiled, the dull ‘clip’ ‘clip’ of the knife on the wooden board and the rising sizzling of the meat in the pan interspersed with floats of conversation from my mum as she carried out these tasks.

It was getting dark outside and the lights were low and cosy in the kitchen, Pooka was curled up perfectly in her basket sleeping away and it was just so peaceful and the world for me for that hour was contained entirely in that kitchen between me and my mum, the rest of the house silent.

And it made me think a delicious thought that what would make it even better and almost tantalisingly idyllic would be for there to be placed in our kitchen a great open roaring fire (despite it being May), the size of one wall etched in rough stone with two winged armchairs in deep ruby red drawn in a haphazard way in front and for me to nestle lovingly into these and read in comfort and warmth with the reassuring sounds of the kitchen and my mum all around me.

(Image taken from http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lZkz_I0ZT8c/SwVCGTMCMGI/AAAAAAAAU3M/9aiaeXnmDi8/s1600/kitchen+with+open+fire.jpg) 

This is what the Kitchen used to be, in the one-up- one-down terraces of old, all the living of the whole family took place in the kitchen, with its open fire where all gathered round, playing games, talking, cooking, washing, mending, planning, re-telling, sharing joys and sadness, the passing of people in and out…the beating and tangible heart of the home.

And now with these thoughts another life ambition to add to my growing list is I need an open fire complete with armchairs in my kitchen in my house…someday.

PS. I couldn't quite find the perfect picture of what I have in mind on the internet, but the one above comes close.

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