Kitchens are Kitchens

After making bread.

I've talked about my kitchen before. I live in a rental. When I first moved in, I didn't expect to be here more than 18 months. It'll be five years in November. Very little in the flat belongs to me. The dishes are the housemates, the table is the housemates, the kettle is the landlords. The wall colors, the cupboards, the stove are all choices of people I don't think I have ever met. Still, I like the kitchen.

Wonder Woman

When Modern Country Style asked her readers to talk about their favorite parts of their kitchens, I wanted to choose something that is mine, something that makes me smile, something that I use every day. This brought the choice down to a set of cutlery, a big pot, a skillet, a steamer, and a couple of mugs.

So I give you Wonder Woman. She, can I gender a mug, follows me around the house. Sometimes she sits on the desk in my bedroom. Mostly she is full, because I drink my coffee long after it has gone cold. In the old days, when I was writing, I wrote a paragraph, went and filled a coffee cup, smoked a cigarette, drank the coffee, and wrote another paragraph. Now that I do not smoke, I fill the coffee cup, write a paragraph, pace, drink the cold coffee and repeat. I miss smoking. I like breathing. I like hot coffee. The compromise, for me, seems to be cold coffee and lots of it. That and a new found love of style blogs.