Making a home

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I have a 400-year-old kitchen with original stone walls (although repointed) a sealed off doorway or maybe it was an oven. There is a debate on that. 

Until this week I also had an IKEA island that just didn't look right.

We went on a hunt to replace it with a French country table, not some modern reproduction but one that had really been used, where people ate, laughed, cried and made plans. I wanted wood with memories embedded.

We found it at a Depot/Vente, our favorite used furniture store and it was delivered. It did require a complete rearrangement of our pots, pans, dishes, which my well-organized husband did as I hid out in another room. This method stops any possible bickering.

Although I am now happy with rustic look and still adore the carved  fish stones, I am not about to give up my modern appliances.

I suspect when I knead bread or roll out a pie crust on the table, I won't be the first. Other women have done it before me. I wish I knew a bit about their lives.

Since my kitchen is the heart of my home complete with heart shaped stones, I look forward to making meals for those I like and love.

The two things were another step in making the flat truly Rick's and mine.