Gracious domesticity

The blog has been on a little vacation lately, although the Princess has not, unless you count a family holiday get-together during which far too much food was consumed and the adult members were beset by Little Persons selling homemade wares and asking for real money for them. In that case, yes, the Princess HAS been on a little vacation recently, and has for the most part made a full recovery.

During this family get-together, we had a chance to view the Relatives' new kitchen, with its gleaming countertops, deep sink, and new overhang islands waiting to be outfitted with tall stools, which the Little Persons have been assured will bring much enjoyment.

We admired the new refrigerator, which, as a Female Relative excitedly pointed out, has lights on every shelf in the back and along the door as well. This is because the refrigerator is actually a gigantic black cave, and without lights one would need a highly complex system to find what one is looking for, such as a treasure map marked with a big X indicating where the jelly may be found.

Not all are pleased with the new kitchen, however. One Little Person -- despite the allure of the promised tall stools -- remains unaccepting of the changes, calling the new kitchen "not kid friendly."

And the central feature capturing the Male Head of the Household's (MHH) feelings toward the new kitchen is, as he declared, "We are no longer allowed to have the garbage can out."

Apparently the Female in Charge of Domesticity had decided that with a new look must come new, gracious ways of living. And there is no room in a gracious kitchen for exposed, potentially aromatic garbage cans. It has therefore been banished to an inglorious place under the sink.

This somewhat rankles the MHH, who often doubles as the Chef, and in this capacity he feels very strongly that a garbage can should be accessible when cooking, particularly when one is  so used to the garbage can being located in a certain place that one might, amidst the deep concentration of preparing a meal, thoughtlessly toss a lid or an onion skin or a whole chicken carcass in the direction the can has always lived. You can see the difficulties that might arise when the can is not where one expects it to be.

So as he commenced  that evening's dinner preparations, the MHH asked the Female in Charge, "Can we bring out the garbage can now, dear?"

She acquiesced, and the can was allowed a brief respite from the confines of the cupboard. "It has to go back when you're done," she said.

He sighed and looked around at the gleaming countertops, the deep sink, the overhang islands, the larger-than-life refrigerator, and the liberated -- albeit temporarily -- garbage can.

"All I really wanted," he sighed again, "was to get a new front door."