no matter what the occasion is, people tend to flock to the kitchen. parties, holidays, dinners, etc. etc. etc. people want to be in the kitchen.
the kitchen/the art of cooking is essentially centered around trying to make people warm, comfortable & happy. it therefore makes sense that people ARE content while in that atmosphere.
during the holidays, the women of my family (a little sexist i know. women's studies minor will ignore that fact) flock to the kitchen to make whatever giant meal it is is that we're about to eat. and that's when the real laughter/story telling time takes place. the wine starts flowing & the story telling increases at the same rate.
the large majority of my in-depth roommate talks occur around our old, wooden, circular table. coffee is drank. boys are discussed. life is analyzed. it's an open, happy place.
i came home tonight still reeling from an awful day full of finals. i poured myself a glass of wine, pulled up a chair at my favorite table & started making paper snowflakes with my some of my favorite people. life started improving exponentially.
in wisconsin a few weeks ago, claire, some girls i had just met and i woke up from a late night out. and right away, everyone congregated in the kitchen, put a large pot of coffee on and proceeded to sit there for the next two and a half hours. conversation ranged from nudity to religion to harry potter to philosophy and by the end of it, i felt like i was legitimately friends with everyone there.
i like round tables. where everyone is equally visible. king arthur may have known what he was doing.
i don't think i managed to sum up the feeling of love i felt tonight. but i like kitchens.
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1 comment:
i LOVED that morning. all mornings should be like that.
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