When I was a little girl I remember well my own Mother standing at the kitchen sink and gazing out the window. Whether washing the dishes, preparing a meal, smiling at the sight of her rose bushes by the fence or watching her children at play, this must have been a place of great solace and comfort to her. I’m sure all or most homemakers at one time or another find themselves taking a break from the modern dishwasher and gaze out the kitchen window, if they have one, to pause and reflect, smile or heal or just be, in a sacred moment alone.
Herself and little brother - 1960 - from our Mother's kitchen window
I find myself doing this more than often, as the kitchen is my busiest workplace in the house, and I am our only modern dishwasher. I recall reading that Laura Ingalls Wilder referred to her windows as pictures on the walls that changed with the seasons. This is so true. I am a “window” person myself and especially like the ones that look out on to the barn yard or the gardens.
So, it’s no surprise then, that in more than 30 years in this same kitchen, I have seen many changes in our back yard; from no trees to trees, from our own babies growing to small children at play, swing sets and slides, kiddie pools to duck pools, pastures to farm yard and no fences to barn yard and chicken coops, and much, much more. From season to season it changes constantly, but not really. From our own children to grandbabies, from family gatherings to friends and strangers stopping by, numerous farm animals hatching, birthing, living and dying, the kitchen window is one view of our own story, a living history with memories that live on and on.
-1987- Our daughters at play.
Winter 2017
Do you gaze out your kitchen window in moments of reflection? Do you feel peace and healing wash over you when you are tense, or joy at the sight of a cardinal resting on a limb, a bluebird feeding it’s young, or smile as your children are safe and happy at play?
I’ve been thinking for a long time now of expanding the kitchen window. The “picture” would be larger and the south sun would do wonders to warm and brighten our little kitchen. Hmmm
~ Gwen of IRISH ACRES