….there’s a candle burning in the window over the sink.
Unless there’s a jar of jam and maybe two or three or more other jars, unopened, for decoration, on the counter.
Unless there’s a bottle of homemade vanilla.
Unless there’s a big canister of flour, and one of sugar.
Unless there’s a Mason jar of straws. (The kids like them.)
Unless there’s a Lazy Susan next to my cooktop with all my favorite herbs and seasonings.
Unless there’s a vase of in-season something I cut and dragged in from outside.
Unless there’s a wooden cutting board, waiting for fresh fruit or vegetables or bread.
And last but not least, a cat on my table.
I know. That’s disgusting. Make me feel better and tell me there’s a cat on your table, too.
A lot of these things could be put away in the pantry. (I’ve even been known to put Number Nine in there on occasion. When I’m trying to cook and he’s biting my ankles.) But I leave them out, on the counter (except Number Nine, who can’t reach the counter), where I can see them, all the time.
Because they make my kitchen feel like home, like mine.