I learned something day before yesterday. Something about myself that I thought was true for years and years is not actually true.
I do not want an island in my future kitchen.
I KNOW! This is HUGE news!
For as long as I remember, any kitchen I have had the privilege to call my own has needed work. Improvements. Upgrades. And I thought for sure one of those would have been an island. Every kitchen you see in the movies or on TV has one. All the upgrade magazine include a new fancy island for the kitchens.
But after Wednesday's adventure I don't think I would like one.
My job is kind of vague in the description part. Basically I do whatever Aunt Richie asks me to do. I pay bills, Internet shop - this is a job?! - and then return things, label, file, laminate - there is a lot of that - help the books and art breathe, make and take and reschedule appointments. Occasionally I venture out of the office and into other areas of the house.
The other day she decided to make a tart with the fresh plums picked from her yard. Then stuff happened and she got distracted and in an attempt to stay on track asked if I would make the tart. I was flattered but a little overwhelmed to be let loose in her kitchen. I mean, our entire house would fit in her kitchen.
But I have also been a little anxious to be able to see all the cool tools she has and to play in such a fantastic space. So I dove in.
Let me tell you, it can put a girl off her game to have her employer, a granddaughter and all the house staff watch her make a quasi-fancy dessert in a strange kitchen. It was tough. And enlightening. The island kept getting in my way. Every time I wanted something, it was on the other side of the counter and I had to walk out and around. When the timer on the oven went off I was on the wrong side of the room and everyone came running before I managed to get it turned off. (They don't use the oven timer much.) Granted, Aunt Richie's kitchen is HUGE and the island in the middle is more than four feet across, so really it's like another room inside the room, but still. Having to go around to reach things, or reach across; much more inconvenient than I would have imagined. And unless I can get what I want and where I need to be without a half marathon it's not going to be worth it.
This is me and that's what I learned at work.