KITCHEN KVETCHING

For those of you who were in touch this fall, I wish to apologize for my tedious kvetching about the new kitchen and office project being installed. I found it difficult living with all the discombobulation and upheaval, the lack of any normal pattern to my days, the constant presence of others in my home, the frustration of having no kitchen sink, and the general chaos of living in a construction site. I missed my comfortable daily-to-day routine, and knowing where everything should be. However, after a few days I became inured to the turmoil and reached a level of calm amidst the mayhem.

I found myself pondering what constitutes a serene existence. Is serenity the result of nothing happening to disturb a peaceful life? Or does it come from successfully dealing with whatever happens? Is it a reward for overcoming adversity? Or a gift over which you have no control? By week two, had I attained serenity or the beginning of complete stultification? Hard to tell. I know I had achieved an entirely unknown level of something like …whatever-will-be-will-be … Che sara, sara. So, perhaps not serenity after all. Maybe it was more like a form of brain constipation.

However, the experience made me realize I am not the practical, rational person I thought was.

It turns out I had only five pots and pans of various sizes, but more than four dozen glasses, not including wine glasses. I had stacks and stacks of china … plates in six sizes, bowls in four different shapes, various platters, and random saucers with no cups. I had pasta bowls too heavy to pick up even when empty, and a gazillion mugs for coffee, tea, and cocoa, yet I use the same coffee mug every morning.

Obviously, I needed to purge and donate, to weed and de-acquisition, to pare down the stuff I had accumulated. However, as I retrieved and put things away. I learned to distinguish between what I really needed for utility, and what I needed for joy. Some things were just perfect for the function they served, but others I needed to keep because their beauty brought me pleasure. But where to draw the line?

… If there is room for four dozen beautiful glasses, should I not keep them? After all, glasses are breakable. The same applies to the plates and dishes and tea cups.

… Mother kept the old juice glasses from my childhood … the ones with the pink or blue colored patterns. I acquired them when we cleared out her house. Shouldn’t I keep them for the memories they bring back, even though I don’t drink juice. They are very small. Maybe keep just two?

… How many tall glasses does anyone really need? I don’t have a dining room table so there is zero chance I shall ever need more than maybe four. So, I can weed some of those into my collection of flower vases. I think there is still room in there.

… I seem to have a constant stream of plastic containers that seem to replicate themselves every two weeks. I can certainly recycle most of those.

… It has been years since I used my salad spinner, so even though it is a really useful item perhaps it is time for it to go to Goodwill along with the turkey roaster, and the third tea kettle I didn’t know I had. I know they are useful items, but they take up quite a bit of space.

Who knew how liberating it could be to dispose of everything but the basics and the beautiful?

Where do I draw the line? Obviously, the line is not firm. In fact, I have come to think of it as grading on the curve, with those things I find beautiful worth keeping just because they bring me joy. As for the rest, I have only a limited interest in actually cooking, and two different size pots and a double-boiler should pretty much cover the necessities. So yes, it would appear I have achieved something like serenity. How long it will last is the next question.