Sometimes the only thing that makes sense to me is a clean kitchen. When things feel like they are spinning out of control. So much out of my hands. When my head is full up and I don't know where to turn... I clean the kitchen. There's something really comforting about the act of putting away dishes, wiping the counters clean, sweeping the floor and putting out new flowers from the garden. It's a small thing that I can fix immediately. I don't have a big kitchen and I don't have a lot of stuff in it (enough dishes for the two of us, a few pots and pans, my beloved coffee brewer and not much else) so it feels manageable to me. I know what's in my cupboards... nothing more than I need. Only what I use each day is out on the counter tops. And I can feel like there is some order in this messy life. There's something that makes sense. Feels like I've been cleaning the kitchen a lot lately.
My hydrangeas are up, and they are oh-so-beautiful. Bursting clusters of pink blossoms. Dark green healthy leaves. If I were a grasshopper I would live in one. Maybe I should paint my studio pink.