Good morning, good afternoon, good evening, goodnight,
Since last I wrote to you, mum's country-kitchen has become bare of all amenities. No cooker, sink, cupboards, even the wallpaper (of which we found no-less than four layers) are all in a skip, residing on my recently retired parents front drive. Much to the amusement of there kind neighbours who have all literally baked her a cake to ease her pain. (I write in honest joviality).
For my parents neighbours, who are all jolly good eggs', egg ess', also insisted mum use a washing machine (not personally dive in to it I hasten to write), donated a slow-cooker for use to cook 'proper' food, over the two to three weeks of cooker-less, washing machine less conviviality.
For eleven and a half years my devoted and selfless mother has waited, dreaming in the wings for her time to shine. By this I mean to have her new kitchen. Peeling back the wallpaper mentioned, was for mum and I, peeling back the history of her home. Different styles, tastes, different people living within the walls of the kitchen . . I wonder what adventures this wallpaper has borne witness too?
In waiting for her new kitchen, having now retired, the kitchen plans have widened to become an intricately plotted pathway to re-shuffling pretty much her whole downstairs.
The kitchen is to become an open-plan kitchen/dining room, separated by a breakfast bar. Her downstairs bedroom will become a proud new home to a en-suite shower room, oh and the utility room shall become the loving home of a traditional Belfast sink.
You see, in my humble yet ardent view, mum has planned this to such a uniquely personal level of satisfaction. Taking huge delight in the entire process, although in truth we have had the odd moment . . .I think specifically of the time last Monday when dad's old boss called by with his wife for a 'spot-of-lunch'.
An ex-boss I respectfully note,who is a man every bit of eighty years old, still skipping off to sail around the Scottish UK's shores, bobbing about in a boat, getting 'stuck-in' to splicing the main braise on his knees pulling and steering the sails.
Did I mention the fact mum's kitchen is bare of all amenities?
Her living room is tripling up as living room, kitchen and dining room for the foreseeable.
As is typical of a women such as mum, caring, strong-minded, passionate and self-less, the travelling duo from Harrogate UK (dad's old boss and lovely wife Rose) were greeted with warmth and generosity.
Oh and the moment mum and I spent three hours on one small section of wallpaper and plaster only to be informed the builder was knocking that part of the wall down too.
Metaphors a plenty here. You see if I think of the up-upheaval caused to mum's domestic life, one could mirror this to the emotional upheaval suffered as a result of relationship turmoil.
Mum's bare of all amenities kitchen is a beautiful slice of visual imagery reflecting with some small accuracy I hope, how one's heart and soul feel post relationship breakdown.
Dad's ex-boss and wife Rose turning up for a 'spot of lunch', is a cherry on the already soggy cake.
All this written, my point here really is this:
From out of turmoil, whether this be relationship, work, life or my poor mum's kitchen,( I write light heartedly), strength and self seems to return by taking ownership of a situation, admitting to yourself how you are feeling and being OK with this. 'I am feeling natural.'
Now far be it for me to profess to be any sort of councillor, therapist or indeed any authority on your emotions in any way whatsoever . . .
That written, having watched mum's emotions constantly change over the many months in planning her new kitchen//downstairs bedrooms has taken. To now the physical process of stripping back the room to it's shell, then be re-fitted to mum's tastes and design. My what a beautifully meaningful example that you can breath again, once more smile and rejoice in the beauty of you. Resume a strength of self,mind and soul, take delight in what brings you that warm tickley feeling in your tummy and a little shiver of pleasure in your veins. . .
Or in mum's case, a new kitchen! . . . At last!
I do hope this has served in at least some small way, to bring a smile.
Back to city living for me now, who know's what adventures lay in waiting under the watchful eye of the 'Big Ben'.
Until we meet again through the page, I trust this finds you in good health and a happiness.
Warmly yours,
R J Wardle
