We are home, and I am getting to know my kitchen again. I have been away so long, I find myself reaching for the wrong drawer when I want a fork. I can’t find the pots I want. The stove buttons feel foreign, the refrigerator door feels heftier than normal.
But now, for a little while, home is my normal again. And I like that.
Jerry installed new lights above our kitchen table. They shine straight down on our plates, they don’t glare. They make our glasses dance in the shadows. If you look closely in the photo above, you’ll see the beginnings of a kaleidoscope created in the combination of light, glass and wine. If I hold one of our multi-colored Mexican snifters beneath the lights, a psychedelic sort of rainbow flutters across the table. Maybe, one day, if I ask really nicely, Jerry will do a whole photo series on the play of light and glass that we now have in our kitchen. Can you tell I like it?
I do. I like being home. I like the fire-hot chiles I can buy down the road (along with handmade tortillas). I like that our neighborhood honey shop sells two varieties I hadn’t seen before — catclaw and desert candle flower. I like the hummingbirds at our kitchen window and the cactus flower blooming in our front yard.
What I don’t like are the mountains of laundry, the piles of boxes, the tedious effort of consolidating two full sets of kitchen spices into one. It’s a strange thing to acquire a second household; it’s stranger yet to convert back to one.
It will take me many more hours to get through this mess before I feel settled in this new phase of life. With a little luck, that will happen before I head out again—on the next journey.
By the way, in a few weeks, I plan announce the project that kept me busy all year in Boulder. I need to tweak a few things first, but stay tuned.
And have a good trip home, wherever that may be.