Consuming

I rarely have flying dreams; in fact, I think I can only recall one. I do; however, frequently have dreams in which I am swimming for great lengths of time without having to surface for a breath. The water is always warm and I believe in the ocean.

Houses also come often into my subconscious. They always include a room with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, hardwood floors, over-stuffed chairs, large windows, sunlight. This room is a repeated theme, as well as a kitchen. The kitchen varies, but recently I had one that was so lucid, I awakened pleasantly with plans to incorporate it into the home that R and I want to someday build.

I want a place to sit and read in the kitchen, as well, as a place to eat. "Formal" dining areas have never interested me. Ask my girls and they can repeat my mantra, "A good chef cleans as she goes." So any mess there wouldn't bother me, as it is typically minimal anyway. I just think there to be so much warmth there.

The best memories I have of spending time with family and friends is in the kitchen before the meal is served, while eating, and sitting with coffee or wine afterward. If I am not reading on the computer while drinking coffee, it is at the kitchen table that I sit and read and sip in the mornings. After lunch, I read aloud either a chapter from a book (currently More Tales from Uncle Remus; I really enjoy Julius Lester and Jerry Pinkney ) or The Child's Story Bible (hands down, the best childrens Bible ever). While the children are out in the neighborhood in the afternoon sun, I sit between stewing, or baking, or broiling, and browse a magazine, paper, or continue a chapter in my own reading.

So, the kitchen seems to me the perfect place to establish a reading area, and to fill with not only cookbooks, but tomes of literature and periodicals; the perfect place to feast not only the body, but the mind and soul, as well.