Jackie Wells-Fauth
We got done painting the kitchen three weeks ago. It looks really nice. I moved all the cooking things back into place and it has been working just fine. Except for one thing: the walls are bare.
Now, anyone who knows me knows that I like things hanging on the wall. A blank space on any wall gives me a nervous tic and I have so many of those automatic picture hanger things on the wall, I’m not sure I really needed to paint it. But I stripped everything off the walls, painted them a lovely blue and now, because of another of my idiosyncrasies (procrastination) the walls are still as bare as a baby’s behind, without so much as a trace of talcum powder.
It’s not that I don’t want things back on the walls. I just can’t seem to get organized and get it done. And it is causing me some problems. I took all the pictures and utensils and other items and laid them on the counters where I wanted to hang them on the walls. And for the last two weeks, I have been industriously wiping them down after a round of cooking grease or spilled tomato sauce or errant soap bubbles. This has not been good for the pictures and even worse for Roy’s and my good humor.
“Don’t set that there!” I yelled, the other evening as he tried to place a plate on the counter.
“It’s a dirty dish, where do you want me to put it, in the china cupboard?” He was rather incredulous.
“It would be better in the china cupboard than sitting right next to those kitchen utensils,” I pointed out reasonably.
“Those are kitchen utensils. Why aren’t they in the drawer, so I can put a dirty plate on the counter?” A worthy question, I suppose.
“Those utensils belonged to my grandmother. They are supposed to be on the wall.” It made perfect sense to me.
Unfortunately, Roy wasn’t following the conversation. “Okay, so your grandmother wants her kitchen utensils to hang on the wall. So why don’t you hang them there (I can’t believe I’m asking this) so I can put a plate on the counter?”
Yes, indeed, that’s the question of the hour. Why don’t I get things hung up? I am going to get around to it, but sometimes I just have a little bit of an organization problem. Those utensils are going to take some thought, and I haven’t decided exactly where to hang the antique grater and where the eggbeater should go. It must be considered before I do it, because I believe my grandmother is involved.
Of course, she is no longer alive, but she would laugh herself silly if she saw her utensils hanging on my wall, and I know she thinks it’s ridiculous, because she has already dropped that eggbeater on my head a couple of times. So, I must take some time and consider where it should go. Meantime, it sits on the counter and collects egg yolk from the plates Roy puts there. Grandma, you should drop that eggbeater on HIS head!
But I digress when I really mean to procrastinate. After a few days of wringing my hands looking at the bare walls, I came across some ripe tomatoes from the garden…in one of my enamel pans.
“What is this? Why would you put tomatoes in that pan?” I was furious.
“Because tomatoes should go in a container…oh, wait, this is another one of Granny’s things, isn’t it?” He catches on quickly.
“Of course, and only a philistine would think to put tomatoes all juicy from the garden in this enamel pan,” I raged.
As he emptied them out and washed the pan, he pointed out in vain that my grandmother undoubtedly used the same pan to collect produce from her garden and she didn’t hang it on the wall as a decoration afterward.
I can see it’s time to quit procrastinating and get my things hung back up before he manages to get syrup or ketchup all over the antique measuring spoons. I’m sure there is a proper way to do this, but I still need some time to figure out exactly where to hang the eggbeater. I’ll keep thinking until next week…or maybe the week after.
dropsinthewell 