I never seem to get tired of home improvement shows, or shows where people buy new houses. But one thing I do get tired of is the desire of nearly every person on these shows to want an open concept kitchen. I wonder if these people have ever had an open concept kitchen, or if they desire one only because it sounds good in concept.
These kitchens look great in carefully staged homes. They are spotless. Gleaming. Gorgeous. But they make no practical sense in my opinion.
The people who want open concept kitchens must not actually cook much. They must not be the kind of people whose dish drainer frequently gets stacked with pots and pans. The counter next to their sink must not always have a pile of plates and cups waiting to be put into the dishwasher. And their stove top must never be splattered. Continue reading “Not open to the concept”
The other day I carried a pile of clothes for the dry cleaner out to my car. I tossed them onto the front passenger seat, along with my purse, and then went into the yard to water the plants before I left.
When I returned to the car and settled into the driver’s seat, I looked over and felt momentarily confused by the pile of fabric next to me. What the hell is that? It was only a matter of seconds before I remembered, and I laughed at my momentary forgetfulness, but this kind of thing is happening more and more often. Continue reading “a little short on the short term”
As a kid in the 1960s I wondered if the future would be anything like the world depicted on The Jetsons. Would we have flying cars? Food that cooked in an instant? Or phones on which you could see the other person?
I expected to be surprised by the innovations of the future, but I didn’t expect so many things to disappear as a consequence of those innovations.
I have been fascinated with cameras and radios for as long as I can remember, and I have always had a fondness for newspapers and maps. These objects gave me pleasure, not only because of their function, but also because of their design, and the way I knew how to operate them. I enjoyed operating them. It pleased me to press an actual shutter button, fine-tune an FM dial, fold a daily paper over just so, or unfold a road map in order to plot a route. Continue reading “Am I an outdated object?”
It seems like suddenly every woman and girl on the street is wearing the same thing: leggings or skinny jeans. Did all females simultaneously decided to make this fashion choice while I wasn’t paying attention?
I knew that leggings and skinny jeans were a thing, but suddenly they are the ONLY thing. I noticed this on a recent trip to New York City. Nearly every woman there was wearing skinny pants of some sort with boots. And now I’m seeing it everywhere… even on older women in my local grocery store. How did this happen? Continue reading “Skinny Pants”
Like many women of the Baby Boom generation, I had a collection of Barbie dolls in the early 1960’s. My first Barbie was a “Bubble Cut,” as she is now known because of her round, poufy hairdo. Her waist didn’t swivel, her shoulders didn’t rotate, her hair couldn’t be combed, and she had a huge wardrobe, unlike her most recent incarnations. Continue reading “My Barbie My Self”
I didn’t notice that my sense of smell had been lost until I picked some lavender from my garden one day a few years ago.
I held the bunch of flowering purple stems close to my nose, anticipating the pleasure of its distinctive fragrance, and inhaled. When I didn’t smell anything I sniffed harder and still: nothing. That’s strange, I thought. I wondered if the plant was too old, or had not gotten enough of some essential nutrient. Continue reading “The Memory of Scent”
I met my half-siblings for the first time last year and it delighted me to discover the things we have in common, especially our tendency to write things down, keep diaries, create archives, and put it all in chronological order.
I grew up as an only-child, so having siblings is an amazing phenomenon to me. As soon as I found Fred and Freida I began to take note of the similarities in our physical features and personality traits. Continue reading “The Diary Gene”