I have one of those hangovers that spares you the banging headache but makes you feel spaced out, floaty, slightly nauseous and not quite with it.
The Uncle and I were up until nearly 4am putting the world to rights.
He saw off a bottle of Jameson’s and I did a bottle of Stolly.
I couldn’t tell you what we talked about, but that is the nature of the kitchen table in Sleepy Mansions.
Every mark, burn, stain and scratch has a story to tell and memories of laughs.
I have laughed until I cried around that table. Eaten some of the most gorgeous food with some of the most amazing people in the world.
It’s solid, heavy and made of oak. Most of the time it is set up to seat four but it has extension bits that mean we can get about 10 round it. At a squash.
Last night there were eight of us and we laughed, scoffed and boozed.
They say the kitchen is the heart of a home, my kitchen table is its soul.
Kenny the Cat has begun his summer of slaughter early this year. Last night he brought in a mouse which was obviously part of a catch and release programme.
He dropped it on the kitchen floor and the little bastard legged it. I had it cornered and was about to dispatch it, when Ken pounced. He ran with it into the front room where he dropped it again and it made a run for the fireplace.
Caught again, it was taken out of the front room window for murdering.
3 comments:
Ah you never said a truer word. THE first exercise my writing teacher set us was to describe a place where we felt comfort. We had to write about not just the look of it, but the smells, the feelings it engendered, the sounds - there's always good music on there - everything. As you know, I wrote about the kitchen and kitchen table in Sleepy Mansions.
More lives have been saved there, more tears and laughter shared than anyone can imagine.
I still have that story!
Too true. When you look through the mags looking at kitchens you just can't imagine lives being saved in these environments. I got to know my mum over the kitchen table and spent so many precious moments with her there. Not profound stuff, just the general stuff of life. All etched into the beaten up old table. I'm sorry, you just don't get that with yer minimalism and stainless steel...
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