portland kitchen

it would have to happen sooner or later, the move from shell to riverside predestined by stephanie early on. neighbors and friends said that. the car jam packed with most all of the stuff from the old kitchen. the knifes, cast iron skillets and copper, bowls, basins and buckets, the various tea pots and kettles, alongside select tins of tea. mugs, cups and saucers, meissen and arzberg, plain plates, terrines and platters, dishes and jars, ramekins and lids, the old sterling and plate, balloon beaters and whisks, colanders and strainers, crocks and crockery, crystal decanters for whisky and water, stemmed glassware, baccarat and plain flat bottom. seemingly endless.

wrapping the goods in kitchen towels, boxes galore crammed into the trunk, the monotonous drive up I-five, eleven slow hours to riverside, one eye smiling, the other in tears.

pu-erh in my favorite pot, drinking from my best loved bowl, shortbread. unpacking next day, crowding hutch, cupboard and counter. every piece a reminder of a time, of living alone, independent in most of my ways. now to live in a new world, beginning anew daily life with this woman.