Kitchen in Paradise

I contemplated this when I read of Ree at My Life as a Hotfessional's Household demolition Improvements last week.

I gathered impetus when Kate at Picklebums posted her kitchen in response to a dare by someone I don't even know (called Rhubarb Rhubarb - as opposed to Rhubarb Whine). Is it rude to steal an idea on the blogosphere if you have never stumbled upon them before?

Of course it isn't.

It also assuages the guilt I feel for not yet following through with the pictures of the desecration calculated remodelling improvements to our backyard for a myriad of different reasons.

So now, to allow you all to feel better about yourselves, here in its unvarnished wonder, I give you - KITCHEN IN PARADISE...


Shall we begin at the back door - or rather, the main entrance to the house, because this is always the way we come up and in.

So the first thing you see is the fridge, the freezer, the water filter and the fruit bowl.

The water filter is magnificent and has saved us a dowry in not buying bottled water because the local tap water - horrid.

It has taken two years to acclimatise to having it in tea and coffee, and if weren't for the whole darned monthly thorough cleanse and daily refill it required, this water filter would be considered family.

What you don't see is the stockpot awaiting some real muscle to get the burned cabbage off the bottom. Its okay - we keep missing it too.

Now the sink - this is where I try to put on my best "om" when I emulate the latest in dishwashing gadgets. Of course, I often fail, but I think one day I will perfect the serene spiritualness required to wash up in an aura - either that or get a dishwasher. We are contemplating training 'Salina up for the role.

The bit that really trips me up the most is that whole concept that it is a four-step task - I rarely clear the old "dry and put away in a timely fashion" hurdle, and that is what I lay the blame on for not having the whole karmic kitchen experience.

We like to joke around that this is a bench. I know, we love to laugh.

But honestly - this particular piece of real estate is a much sought after commodity in this part of Paradise.

Sure, its yellow. But really, when combined with the chin height cupboards, the toaster, the kettle, the coffee machine and - on an inspired day - the toaster-grill, you have to raffle every square centimetre.

Oh - and can you see that beautiful ceramic bench stove disappearing to the right of the photo. My pride and joy - especially joyous when it replaced the previous version (for the full story of that, you will have to travel to Winter last year).

In fact, if you clicked that last link, you would know why it is there is something missing from this shot.

In fact, household renovations are up there with the discussions on organisational strategy for the wedding - I could either build up a little blood pressure and try to talk it out with my beloved OR I could accept the many benefits of such an arrangement (Well, actually, not really - apologies to V) smile at the beauty of not having to fight like a navvy to open that darned cupboard as much as every other cupboard in this kitchen requires. Apparently someone though "living by the beach" equated to "cabin catches" for all kitchen doors. Great for the abs.

Oh - by the way - this is the good bench for preparation, with only the microwave and knife block as full tenants. The food processor, the hand beaters (oh how I love thee), all chopping and decorating take place here!

Technically, this is not within the kitchen, but our stash of presents are yet to find their final homes. It has only been a fortnight, after all.

The problem with looking at all these goodies and thinking about where they should dwell is it leads into discussion about which wall we have to knock out, how to most efficiently take away valuable cupboard space to alleviate some of the stress with kitchen preparation (especially from "the best kitchen hand in the world" - a self-bestowed but not that far of the mark title) and where to put the electrical outlets.

But this is what makes it all worthwhile (well, except for the fantastic food that comes forth, if I do say so myself) - no, not the compost awaiting emptying nor the recycling bin, but the light - no longer tinted red, I realise, but still - Paradise just out of the window.

So come on - give us your kitchen in all its glory - and the only rule is you are not to specially tidy just for the shots.

And I have just realised - those curtains HAVE TO GO.