My mug shot:

Our guest host for this week has come up with a brilliant theme: Inspiration from the Kitchen. Her blog post shows an incredible artistry with this subject and technically stunning photographs. Do visit!

The subject of kitchens, of food and hearth, the center of a home, strikes a very emotional place for many of us, I suspect. Looking at the rich textures and sumptuous opulence of some of the photos I’ve seen so far, I began to feel rather sad, perhaps…nostalgic? I live in a studio apartment, and my kitchen is a simple L-shaped corner of the 700 square feet of my dwelling. This is my first time living alone. My kitchen doesn’t make me think of beauty or art or pride. However, I took a closer look and created a Mug Shot that has great meaning for me. The coffee mug was a Christmas gift from my housemates who live on the other side of the wall. They welcomed me to Oregon with this amazing opportunity to live deep in the woods on family-owned property going back generations. The backdrop is a painting done by my daughter-in-law, who is the most creative and inspirational cook I know. Her smoked/marinated/grilled/sauced/garnished dishes show layers and layers of cultural influence and bold experimentation. The cutting board was also a gift from a family member. It is wooden and incredibly useful, and I’m really glad to have it. So, in my kitchen, I find I am supported by friends and family, which is comforting because otherwise I might simply stand alone eating ingredients over the kitchen sink.

My heritage…

I grew up in awe of my mother’s mastery at cooking and serving gourmet meals. She created grand, formal dinners at my father’s request. I was not permitted to help in any truly participatory fashion. I could do small tasks. For family dinners, I could make a salad. When she was making a pie, I could pray that the top crust could be lifted and placed perfectly without cracking. My mother called this pie-praying. I was not allowed to touch. I was the youngest of four daughters, and I know her culinary skills were handed down to my oldest sister. As the mother of four of my own, I know that sometimes it’s just easier to do it yourself. I do not harbor any ill-will about this chapter of a complex family history. It’s just a fascinating scenario. We are all influenced by such basic stories.

The photo above shows a demitasse cup and saucer that I took before the sale of my mother’s estate as a small reminder of the dining room china – 12 settings, decorated in platinum. My mother collected several different sets of china, thinking that each of her four daughters would need one. However, life and lifestyles have changed. Her grandchildren have absolutely no desire to own china. Lace tablecloths fill the drawers of the curio cabinet I inherited from my mother-in-law. And I sit alone at my grandmother’s cherry dining table as I type this. Two leaves are hidden below the tabletop. There could be 8-10 people around it…and there have been at times, years ago.

But my everyday life is not lace and china and silver. It’s Douglas Fir trees and hiking boots and granola in a dish from the dollar store.

And that is my inspiration and my cup of tea right now.