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Jul. 24th, 2009 12:16 pmDear Lucie,
You know what I miss most of all about the old house?
Not the living room: the wood burner here works. The whole family uses it and the dining room because the bedrooms aren't big enough to do anything but sleep and get dressed
Not the bathroom: climbing in and out of that tub always made me feel I was taking my life in my hands, and trying to clean it! The shower's clean with a quick squeegee. All we've got room for is a shampoo bar in the shower and a bar of soap and toothbrush holder on the basin; as that's about all we can afford to keep in stock, it works out wonderfully.
Not the back garden: I wasn't well suited to desert gardening; every year the only things that survived were some of the herbs, and I could never get rid of all of the fruit. I wonder how the new family's doing?
I miss the kitchen: the Wedgewood, and the big fridge, and the sunroom just through the little door; the counter space, and the amount of space generally . . . yes, there's a window over the sink now -- I can watch the garden being drowned while I do the washing-up -- and it has all the tools I need, but it feels as cramped and tiny as the galley kitchen in our first place. Despite the best efforts of everyone in the family, there was still far too much stuff: most of the bakeware has been rehomed, the majority of it at the community center (which reminds me that I need to take the laundry over and drop it off).
That's part of the reason I sent you the cookie jar, silly woman: I don't bake much in the "goody" category here, as chocolate and sugar are so closely rationed, and I knew you'd be able to put cookies in it for the kids. If I want something sweet, I'll go to the bakery. Plus your kitchen is dedicated to '50s kitsch and a "Cookie Time" jar is a much better fit than a Snapware tub. :-)
Steak knives, there's something that never comes out of the drawer any more. With meat rationed, cooking tends towards the communal: pies and stews and curries rather than "big hunk o' cow".
(Perhaps I'm more spoiled than I thought? I wake up warm and dry and safe every morning, after all, and that's reason for gratitude.)
You know what I miss most of all about the old house?
Not the living room: the wood burner here works. The whole family uses it and the dining room because the bedrooms aren't big enough to do anything but sleep and get dressed
Not the bathroom: climbing in and out of that tub always made me feel I was taking my life in my hands, and trying to clean it! The shower's clean with a quick squeegee. All we've got room for is a shampoo bar in the shower and a bar of soap and toothbrush holder on the basin; as that's about all we can afford to keep in stock, it works out wonderfully.
Not the back garden: I wasn't well suited to desert gardening; every year the only things that survived were some of the herbs, and I could never get rid of all of the fruit. I wonder how the new family's doing?
I miss the kitchen: the Wedgewood, and the big fridge, and the sunroom just through the little door; the counter space, and the amount of space generally . . . yes, there's a window over the sink now -- I can watch the garden being drowned while I do the washing-up -- and it has all the tools I need, but it feels as cramped and tiny as the galley kitchen in our first place. Despite the best efforts of everyone in the family, there was still far too much stuff: most of the bakeware has been rehomed, the majority of it at the community center (which reminds me that I need to take the laundry over and drop it off).
That's part of the reason I sent you the cookie jar, silly woman: I don't bake much in the "goody" category here, as chocolate and sugar are so closely rationed, and I knew you'd be able to put cookies in it for the kids. If I want something sweet, I'll go to the bakery. Plus your kitchen is dedicated to '50s kitsch and a "Cookie Time" jar is a much better fit than a Snapware tub. :-)
Steak knives, there's something that never comes out of the drawer any more. With meat rationed, cooking tends towards the communal: pies and stews and curries rather than "big hunk o' cow".
(Perhaps I'm more spoiled than I thought? I wake up warm and dry and safe every morning, after all, and that's reason for gratitude.)
