COUNTRY KITCHEN LIVING

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

CLICK YOUR HEELS TOGETHER THREE TIMES

Good morning, good afternoon, good evening, goodnight,

 As you read this from whichever far-flung shore of our globe you reside, may I warmly welcome you, taking a brief moment in this first entry to introduce myself.

 A fast approaching thirty-something countryman by birth busily bouncing around in London UK. Most of the worlds adventures good, bad or excruciating, can to me at least be put-to-rights via expeditions back to a lush, leafy, natural ol' blighty. . .  English countryside.

 For you, I am sure have your own unique place to call home.

 It is my primary intention with this and all forthcoming entries to engage your minds, warm your souls (he writes hopefully), offering you a moments interlude in an ever-increasingly hectic lifestyle for many of us citizens of the world.

 Escape to the Country, a popular weekly hour of escapist televisual delight, forever manicuring an idyllic countryside setting for by-enlarge three types of clientèle: retired, young couples and young families, to 'escape' to. Itself sets a beautiful precedent and lifestyle option to a much larger audience, an achievable retreat for the many not the few.To escape a daily hum-drum of the 'rat-race' commonly known as working-life in our 21st Century globe. 

 Writing as I have already mentioned, as a countryman living busily in London UK, I appear to have straddled the two worlds. Now you may think and perhaps rightly so, that my comfort in the countryside is biased by a childhood and youth running wildly through hay strewn fields. For this you may well be correct.

That written surely the buzz of city life which is even to me intoxicating, pleasurable, fulfilling, enhancing and just down right FUN, casts an almost factory conveyor-belt approach to the world, to life? 

I have to write dear friends in my ardent yet humble view, we do appear to have lost sight of the whimsicality of life. Of  inner-sensual pleasures one derives simply from swimming in a lake in the middle of rolling fields and wooded hills out in the wilderness keenly watched over by horses, sheep and an occasional squirrel .

 'The wilderness' a term many a globe-trotting adventurer spouts, see David Attenborough perched on a Ice-Cavern in outer Iceland observing penguins, polar bears and endless pools of water. Conjures also a much deeper meaning. Whilst racing through life, crammed in to one of London's rush-hour tombs, sorry underground tube trains, in other words, out in the wilderness of ourselves amongst a sea of faces, it often escapes ones mind there are indeed alternatives, options.

 I guess this brings me to my wider point (it has and is often recounted jovially to me 'Ooh you do witter on dear man') which is this:

 What with life in our post naughties age hurtling along towards what a hundred years since was termed 'The Roaring Twenties' (and shall be again I suggest) forever coping with all our personal hurdles, juggling on a tightrope our commitments, emotions, family-ties, adventures and oh yes, the rat-race. It is in my humble yet jovial view, a rare almost lost luxury to recline in the beauty and splendour of ourselves, our dreams, our passions. 

 For me if you hadn't guessed,  a moments brief escapism, rejuvenation, me-time, is found roaming in the countryside, in words, in art, in the deliciously soul-enhancing inner-strength giving joy of dreaming, striving calmly I hasten add, towards that dream. 

For you I am sure this will be uniquely tailored to your own personal inner joy's.

So I passionately write here,  in order to regain ourselves from whatever toils we face, it is always, even from a very deep Ice Cavern as David Attenborough delights in telling us, where new life can begin, intrinsically valuable to dream our dreams. Take comfort from whichever pleasures our minds, bodies and souls desire, never for a moment allowing ourselves to return to that rush-hour underground tube train.

I leave you for now, in hope this initial commentary has served at least in some small way to give some pleasure. To amuse, enlighten, engage, provoke thoughts of hopefulness, courage and optimism. 

 Or maybe you simply think, what a witterer . . . 

"It is that range of biodiversity that we must care for -

the whole thing -

rather than just one or two stars" 

Attenborough, D.

Until we meet again through the page, I trust this finds you in good health and a happiness

  Warmly yours,

 R J Wardle