She served her duty. The kitchen was originally designed and built in 1962. She had a refrigerator, teeny tiny wall oven, stove top, and a sink. No dishwasher. No microwave space. No counter space. No human space. The actual kitchen area was confined into this small U shape that could only contain one human at a time with a small counter-height opening looking into the former dining room/den.
This one-man layout always left me envisioning J's grandmother as a young mother in the 60's, wearing an apron over a dress with her black hair in tight curls around her loving face, pulling a cake out of the tiny oven that was baked to perfection on Christmas evening. Moments like that make me want to leave the kitchen exactly as it is and continue the tradition of this one family home. As sweet as that fleeting thought is, it's always followed by the much more realistic vision of her standing in the tiny kitchen, drenched in sweat because the layout doesn't allow for air flow. Then, after attempting to cook an enormous meal for the entire family in a half size oven, she is left washing mounds of dishes and silverware by hand and piling them on the teeny counter top next to the sink to dry.
Renovation, here we come.
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