My kitchen table

Talking of age....
my kitchen table is creaking and the joints are softening up. The matching chair are cushioned and the pads are faded and washed out of shape. I love the elderly furniture; the table rim is notched with life events. This breakfast area has witnessed lives come and go. It has held more hot dinners and celebrated with so much party food than Buckingham Palace has had garden parties!
We are a family who have always eaten together; the children have been brought up to know when we are sitting eating we sit at the table; get down and you have to leave the room- your meal is finished; if you fancy apple crumble for pud then stay where you are!




The hawthorn is bursting into Spring

(Having said that there were treat times when we sat on the picnic rug on the floor in the family room or lounge- watching childrens' weekend programmes on television like 'Dr Who'or 'Box of Delighrs' and we had crisps in summer with sandwiches or mugs of soup and crumpets in winter- simple souls with simple pleasures!)

At holiday times the six seats proliferate and are swollen by piano stools, African drums and high chairs. The table has witnessed games, homework, arguments, political discussions, weddings, christenings, birthdays, baking, cake icing, breakfasts, lunches, tea, supper, parties, chat, catchups, conversations......



Violets form a carpet behind the hawthorn

natter natter natter


A hellebore from K a walking friend

Where has this 'kitchen table' drama come from? We were at two smashing parties last night- a Hollywood 40th birthday red carpet do in the evening sunlight over a bowling cum croquet lawn- and a 60th  disco where we danced the night away..... the daughter of our senior citizen host said she still had the knives I gave her and her husband for their marriage- and she added 'We do what you suggested when we use the cutlery- we all sit down at the table to eat together'. I hugged her!