Past and Present

There is a certain time of day, in the late afternoon, when it is necessary to turn on the lights in the kitchen.  My kitchen is such a bright, vibrant space with plenty of sunshine beaming in.  But in the late afternoon during the winter months, the sun goes down and makes it necessary to turn on the artificial lighting.  I have plenty of lighting in my kitchen.  I do not like a dark kitchen.  

Today after working in the kitchen for a bit, I wandered to other areas of the house to do other tasks.  Just a short bit later, I returned to the kitchen and it needed light.  I make the transition smoothly, but for a brief moment, I mourn the passing of the sun from my kitchen.  But within moments, I am swept up in the pulse of making dinner, lively conversation, and reminiscences of the day and the kitchen is bright, bright, bright with love and lighting. 

This picture hung on a wall opposite my seating arrangement throughout the whole of my childhood.  My mother was kind enough to gift it to me when I started out on my own as a young adult and it has been in my kitchen ever since.  It is faded and aged.  I read and re-read this prayer over and over again as a child.  My eyes always seek out print.  I have it memorized I'm sure.  If prompted I could recite the whole thing.

How about a little project viewing?  The granny square lap covering rests over my dad's knees.  This was made by his mother, his wife and his daughter.  The granny squares in the middle were made by none other than my infamous mummu and came into my possession this past fall.  The four corner squares were made by my mother, who gave them to me last summer.  I put them all together, added filler and border (double crochet) and wrapped it for my daddy for Christmas.  I wish my crochet talent matched that of the matriarchs who came before me, but it is what it is. . . Not my specialty.  But I think he loves it nonetheless.