This Started Off As Something Else

I am sitting here in our kitchen-extension: two years ago, while I was heavily pregnant with our smallest,

(Oh, gosh, I love the cute squidgy face of a newborn)

we oversaw a new extension to our home (as you do- I’m sure if a survey was done on extensions, the majority would have a pregnant woman at the helm) which is a turn-of-the-century stone farm house (completed in 1904).

(The original plans we drew up for the architect)

Our kitchen was TINY, and to get to it you had to navigate around a few narrow corners, so “we” blasted out through a window to create a door

(Unfortunately I didn’t get any photos of when the builders were wandering around half-naked, so you will have to use your imagination)

and built on an extension made from log- as in a log cabin.

No need to say that there were many times when we double guessed- was it “right”/ should we have gone with concrete/ stayed with what we had?

(Kitchen just after it had been installed- it is still gorgeous, albeit usually untidy…)

But everyday when I walk into this room, which is flooded with light, warmth and a “wood-y” smell ( not mentioning an extraordinary energy)

I feel content and blessed that this was such a great idea. 

But I have digressed from what I was about to say: here I am sitting in our kitchen, looking out over our dark back (flooded) yard, with the rain drumming on the roof; there is nothing more comforting that the rhythm of the raindrops, a warm glow from the kitchen, and a pot of tea beside me.

(Yes. I had a completely different post planned, but got side tracked… so I think I’ll leave it for another day…)

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