K ~ Kitchen

    It wasn't pretty, by any stretch of the imagination. but the kitchen was my favorite room of the house.
    The counter tops were bright orange, and had a been custom made for a different kitchen and therefore it didn't fit properly in ours, but I loved working at it. It was where Mom taught me how to cook and bake.  Stirring up big batches of cookies, rolling out pie dough, kneading bread, and trying my hand at new recipes I found in Mom's handful of recipe books was so much fun, that the color of the counter tops didn't seem to matter at all.
    The curtains at the windows were a dark green. Ugly, describes them well, but again, I didn't care. They worked well to keep the sun out of my eyes at the supper table.
    The table was an old Formica topped creation that sagged in the middle. We had six mismatched chairs to use with it. It was such a fun place to sit and write letters to my friends, play games with my brothers, and of-course eat hundreds of delicious home cooked meals.
    There was an old battered metal woodbox in the corner of the kitchen which we children kept filled with firewood for the cookstove.
    On the one wall Dad had hung a big square piece of blackboard and framed it with an oak trim. We enjoyed drawing pictures on it, writing what ever our fancy struck us with, playing little games such as several versions of tic-tac-toe, silos, dots and boxes, and more.
    It was the kitchen where we would all settle in for popcorn, apples, and bedtime stories during the winter.
    When looked at from a real perspective it badly needed remodeling, but love and happiness was all it needed to make it the most inviting, happy, and yes, even beautiful room in the house.