Thursday, December 26, 2013
But it is time to go. To replace the wobbly electric oven (on such a slant that the frying eggs run like sprinters to the back of the pan and coagulate there, in a long white/yellow line) with a gas stove. To exchange peeling formica for something that shines. To get a dishwasher that makes the dishes cleaner when they come out, as opposed to encrusted with wrong hues.
Nothing will be bigger, but everything will be sweeter. And so today, following wonderful holiday meals, we begin to prepare this kitchen for its end, and new beginning. My brother-in-law has helped sort and consolidate spices. I've riffled through the tax papers early. We have rid ourselves of the broken ice cream scoop and the chipped green stirring spoon and the spotted salad tongs.
There is something like nostalgia in all of this.
And also anticipation.