The cure for anything is salt water: Sweat, tears, or the sea.
Thank you to all of you who have asked about a “REVEAL” of our new kitchen; it’s nice to know you’re interested. I have no idea why I’m taking so long---I DO find myself lingering over the simplest tasks, with the spray-and-wipe of those pristine white counters taking on the significance of WAY more than sanitation. I think all this slow contemplative enjoyment has slowed my entire outlook---not in a dreary way, or a don’t-look-forward way, but perhaps in a contentment with things just now, pushing off small want-tos for a little while.
I just tell myself I want the photos to be just right, or the angles, or what about those pink utensils that are in the dishwasher at the moment---wouldn’t it be best to wait for those for the pictures? Or, you know---this vase of roses is several days old; might better wait for a new bouquet for best effect.
Caro has been collecting pink SALT for me---mostly for the effect, of course, and the salad-dressing-prep marble is now quite colourful, with all the lovely glints of pink. Some of them I haven’t used yet, but I’m tempted to make a batch of dark chocolate truffles or some rich fudge, just for the sake of scattering a grain or two of that bright SEE-Salt atop---wouldn't that be pretty?
The time will come---I do not flatter myself that there’s a bated breath in the house, for it’s so totally inconsequential in the Scheme of Things. The asking is a lovely compliment, and it BRIGHTS me, as does this Sweet 'n' Low Pink kitchen, planned since I was six.