Sometimes my mind starts to wander. Often times these days it goes skipping on down Memory Lane. This evening the memories were about kitchen tables.
When I was a kid my Uncle Ronnie and Aunt Em were our only relatives who lived close by. This was a time long before cell phones, when people went visiting instead of texting. The kids would play games outdoors and the grown-ups would visit. My aunt and uncle had a nice living room in their house. My parents had a nice living room in their house. But the place they all sat to talk to one another was at the kitchen table.
My Grandma in northern Minnesota had a kitchen table next to the only window in her kitchen. When we went to visit her, we sat around the kitchen table while she cooked on her big wood burning kitchen stove. Often we would sit there peeling carrots or shelling peas for her. She could always find a glass of milk, fresh from the cow, and a cookie or two for a granddaughter to consume at that table.
Mother's friends would stop in now and then. It wasn't unusual to find two or three neighbor ladies sitting at our kitchen table, drinking coffee and catching up on the neighborhood gossip. And when Mother and her sisters gathered around the kitchen table, there was always a lot of laughter and a lot more "Remember when..."
When I had a home of my own, life seemed to revolve around the kitchen table. Friends would sit there for a game of cards. Others might bring their kids over to play with mine, and there were always coffee and cookies or cake or donuts to go with good conversation at the kitchen table. Homework was done at the kitchen table. Letters to relatives were written there. Pictures were drawn by children, books were read while drinking countless cups of coffee and checkbooks were balanced - all at the kitchen table.
I am not a fancy person. I am much more comfortable with a mug of coffee at the kitchen table than I am sitting in a living room chair trying to balance a cup and saucer on my knee. I suppose that comes from having a long line of kitchen table folks in my family history. So should you ever drop in for a visit, don't expect tea in china cups. With saucers. You will, however, usually find cookies in the cookie jar and will always find a steaming mug of coffee. In my world, it doesn't get much better than that.
Trying to go with the flow on a Slow Sunday...
46 minutes ago