This is my third week of being out of work and I have no shortage of stuff to do. Mike and I have been walking again--there's a great perimeter road near where we live--and every day our house looks more awesome. The other day I super-cleaned the kitchen and then took a picture of it because, yes, I am that queer.
Do you know that this is the only house we looked at that had a kitchen completely separate from the family room? (The opening to the family room is at the end of the kitchen.) The open floor plan model that's so popular these days doesn't sit well with me; who the hell wants to cook (which is bad enough in itself) and have to listen to whatever the kids are watching/playing on TV? Mike's last house was like that and I was going positively bonkers. The old houses I lived in back East all had separate kitchens, and through they were pretty tiny, it was a much better setup.
I have fond memories of my mother sitting at our kitchen table on Lincoln Avenue having a cigarette and drinking coffee with Mrs. Sacca, the mother of mine and Lori's best friends, Donna and Gina. This was back in the heyday of Mom's agoraphobia, when she was generally in a piss-poor "Jesus Christ all-goddamn mighty" screaming mood, so when we saw Mrs. Sacca strutting down the street heading for our house, we knew the clouds would part for a while. There's nothing like neighborly gossip to lift one's spirits. I can't image the open floor plan of modern houses being conducive to girl talk.
More about Donna and Gina. My sister Lori and I have been friends with these girls since before Kennedy was shot, which means we've been friends for almost 50 years. They're "Vatican twins," born less than a year apart, and are sandwiched chronologically in the two years between me and Lori. They say no one knows your life better than a same-age sibling, and Donna and Gina know my life as well as I do.
|Donna, me, Gina, Lori -- BFFs since 1963|
Anyway, getting back to kitchens... Mom's house today in Boise is all open, but it works out great for her and Stepdaddy. B.H. and I lived in a house in Utah with a kitchen/living room combo, and it was fine for us, but I still don't get it if you have a family. Mothers, and especially wicked stepmothers like me, need to stir the cauldron in solitude. If a woman's place is in the kitchen, at least let us have some peace and quiet.
So what do you think? Kitchen/family room combo or a separate kitchen where all the cool friends gather at beer parties?