Sunday, January 15, 2012

Domestic with Age.

Hey, she's back!

I took out my knitting stuff some time ago, but updating while couch-surfing just didn't seem right. Now that I'm in my new place, this can resume. :)

I think being in a state of uncertainty for so long has kept me from finishing many of my projects. I've managed to start, um... 4 or 5? But only one of those is finished, because it was a trade.

I hadn't picked up my knitting in a couple weeks now, though, since I was getting all... "bajiggity" about my focus. But the bag just kept nagging at me, little tips of needles poking out of various balls and skeins of yarn, saying, 'what are you doing sitting over there? You've got to finish me! Wasn't that my appeal in the beginning? You had something to show for the work you did. What do you have now? A bunch of unfinished projects. You suck at life.'

Guilt, so much guilt (and I'm not even Catholic).

But on the upside, I've been picking up the slack in cooking, and just got a new book on Japanese Noodle dishes! I'm slowly incorporating many more asian influences into my diet. I just find it incredibly interesting... the flavors, the aesthetic, the possible health benefits, the chopsticks...

I've also been watching way too many Korean Dramas lately, and the importance placed on food in so many of these shows is so different, but refreshing. The value of a home-cooked meal with some love behind it is such a beautiful concept to me.

I come from a family where everything took place in the kitchen. It's the heart of the home (not the living room with the big screen tv and impersonal sofas). Every get-together centered around what my mother had cooking in the kitchen. I grew up with home-cooked meals at least 5 nights a week, if not all seven. I woke up to the smell of breakfast, and was called down to dinner with the aromas wafting from below. Every woman in our family received therapy from the kitchen. A chair would be pulled in from the dining room, we'd sit down and talk to mom, who would be busy chopping, sautéing, boiling, baking while we poured our hearts out and developed an appetite. At the end of it, she'd give us the words we needed to hear, hand us a plate and order us to eat up.

It's hard to leave that dynamic behind, and so I want to make it my job to create that place in this new home. I want people to feel like they can come over anytime (within reason...I do have two roommates), and if they stay long enough, eat my food.

I'm becoming more domestic with age, and I love it.

~Pusher. Of. Pens.~ (and Knitting Needles, and Frying Pans.)

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