The heart of the home is in the kitchen. As a child I can remember waking up to the aromas of pancakes, fried bacon and sausage, maple syrup and coffee flooding my senses. I'd happily throw my feet over the side of the bed and hurry down the stairs to find my dear momma flipping bunny shaped pancakes in her chenille robe and fuzzy slippers. I'd cleverly work my way around the kitchen trying to steal a taste before it was ready and I think she secretly got sweet satisfaction over knowing how excited I was to sample her delicious spread.
I recall hot summer days playing outside for hours and then hearing Momma's voice call us in for a tasty bowl of ice cream drizzled with her famous hot fudge sauce. I could never resist going over to the stove and dipping my finger in the pot of hot fudge and getting my hand slapped away. Memories of standing at the counter plucking the ends off garden grown string beans, and slicing vine ripe tomatoes and cucumbers makes my mouth water and seems as though it was just yesterday. Then there were those days after school when the second I stepped into the house I'd get a whiff of her homemade chicken pot pie with another sweet smell lingering in the air…..CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES! As I think back, so many amazing memories begin in the kitchen. Late nights where the family sat around the kitchen table visiting and playing pinochle and skip bo; the kitchen counter lined with tasty treats to pick at. The refrigerator door adorned with pictures of my adorable nieces, cousin's weddings, some not so cute school pictures (that I actually care not to remember haha), and my little brother's latest water color paintings, soccer schedules, and bible verses. There was no better place to practice my new dance moves and spins while mom stood at the stove stirring a pot of the family's secret spaghetti sauce.
My Mom's kitchen cabinets in particular were hand painted in "cavern table blue." I remember when she painted them. I remember my niece gliding around the kitchen in her baby walker banging into them. The "cavern table blue" color also made the backdrop for so many sweet pictures of her. I recall spilling the milk down the cabinets as I went to pour myself a glass and then frustratingly wiping up every last drop. Another time my mom was standing at the counter (in her very pregnant state might I add) and a mouse decided to scurry through the kitchen and under her feet. I still laugh as I picture her in a complete panic trying to lift her pregnant belly over the counter to get her feet off the ground to escape such a threat. So many memories. The heart of the home is in the kitchen.