Ode to an Old Kitchen

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She wore her curves well

That old farmhouse kitchen

Her ample bosom comfort for the weary

Season upon season, she plodded along

Her hips swaying as she moved through hot summer days and cold winter nights

Jarred pickles and peaches her jewels

The warmth of her fire a bit ardent for some

But for others a balm

Small bums and big ones backed up to her side

She drew them into her warm and smokey embrace

In return, her chrome fenders were polished

An endless supply of chocolate chip cookies, roasters of scalloped potatoes, crisp loaves of sourdough, blueberry pies, and bowl after bowl of popped corn

Satiated the rumbles and cravings

Her kitchen table homey and hallowed

Shared conversation, tears and laughter, love-making, squabbles and first steps,

Seasoned her soul and saturated her space

We thought she would go on forever

But one day

She untied her apron with wizened hands and hung it on the hook at the stairway door

Then ambled out with a contented smile

My work here is done.

If the heart of the home is in the kitchen

Her pulse will be palpated through new veins for years to come

Infusing old ways into a new life

Published by Judy

On the edge of Waterloo county, resting sedately on knoll, is an old stone house looking out towards the Grand River. This stone house and farm has been in my husband's family for years. We have been graced to call this place home for the last thirty years. Our best crop has been our four children. After years of immersing myself in raising and educating our family, the proverbial nest has slowing been emptying, opening up space for me to fill with other pursuits. Both writing and photography have been knit into my everyday living since I was very young. Sharing them is both a bit of a dream and a nightmare. But living small and in fear shrivels up a life. My thoughts are musings on God, aging, family, and simply living. My shelves are lined with books, my baskets are brimming with skeins of yarn, my closet shelves are stacked with apparel, my cellar shelves are chock full of home canning - all testaments to my inclinations. Our journeys are not solitary affairs. As I share bits of my journey with you, I hope you will be enticed to look more closely, listen more attentively, and live with abandon. May God's peace rest on your journey. Judy Mae Naomi

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2 thoughts on “Ode to an Old Kitchen”

  1. Norma Martin says:

    I like this one! Bless her for giving to others!

    Reply
    1. Judy says:

      Thanks, it was a much beloved space. You know what it’s like to live in an old farmhouse kitchen! They’re pretty special.:)

      Reply

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