simple gifts

To find yourself suddenly tired of books and ideas, impatient with novels, just only able to look at poetry, dreading to think about art, and with only music left still singing in your mind, just barely; and wanting instead nothing but the simplest of pleasures - health (most of all), a cosy kitchen of your own to cook in, recipes to follow (stews, soups, pastas, cakes, cookies, desserts, anything that takes time and effort to prepare), dishes to wash, and laughter, clear ringing laughter, amid the sounds of friendly conversation.

Here is a dream kitchen. Well, perhaps not so much a dream - I have grown suspicious of dreams - but a kitchen I would like to work in - with plenty of countertop, shelf and cabinet space, a double-sink, a gas stove, a microwave, an oven, a stolid refridgerator, a sensible clock, a nice useful kitchen table which people can sit around, and a lovely window that lets the sunlight in.
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Christmas is coming - anyone wants to buy me a kitchen? :)
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