Parkhouse iii: the kitchen

The kitchen is never as clean as it should be. Stepping in from the livingroom, there are things piled all over the dinner table: bills, bank statements, notices and homework from school. All attempts at organizing the mess have up until this point failed.

Beside the table is a huge, six-panelled window, filled with the same blown glass balls as in the livingroom. It hangs on hinges, so we just push it out in the summer to take advantage of the nice breeze coming off the ocean, and then latch it closed in the winter, when it would be draughty, regardless. The cats use it to escape in the middle of the night when it's open.

Dad's chair is the closest one to the kitchen counter. It was the one that I was sitting at when my mother accidently spilled an entire caraffe of coffee down my back, giving me an itchy burn that I proudly showed off to others for weeks.

About four or five years ago, all the appliances in the house began to die. At first it was only the hair dryer, but soon the washing machine, the dryer, an electric drill, the dishwasher and the main element on the stove followed suit. We became very alarmed as every electrical device that my mother touched finally gave up after 15-20 years of abuse: the coffee maker, an electric shaver, an electric mixer and the microwave. All this happened during a four month period.

It was a while before we got the epidemic under control, but for a while my parents thought they would have to resort to desperate measures: getting a divorce and then remarrying, so that people would give us new appliances. The problem, they said, was that they had simply been married for too long for everything electrical in the house to handle.

Luckily they didn't divorce. Instead, we got every sort of good luck charm that we could possibly find, and built a small shrine on top of the bread box. The crowning glory of it all is a medium sized cat like the ones that you find in Asian businesses. Mom used to stuff it full of coins that she picked up off the ground, and then give them to my sister and I when it got full.

I suppose you can't really see it anymore...