Our kitchen table is amazing. Frankly, I'm not sure what we would do without it, not because we'd have no place to eat dinner - the couch and the patio have proven they're up to the task - but where would the entire family put all their crap/stuff/junk/things? I'm actually so grateful that years ago we decided to purchase an extra long farmhouse style table. I mean, a four-seater simply couldn't contain our belongings as well as our table does. I wonder often if the large expanse of wood simply invites this dumping of belongings - it does look like a big shelf. Or perhaps it's the table's centralized location - the perfect point at which to release anything and everything you may be holding at the time.
Typically I'll fill a big wicker basket with the table contents, and depending on my mood or energy level, will simply leave it by the stairs or the mudroom for people to fish through when they are looking for something or I'll take it upstairs and leave a pile of things in everyone's doorway. My hope is that having to step over a stack of your possessions in order to enter your room will cause my family members to be inspired to put things away. I've learned though not to get my hopes up when the piles are no longer visible from the hallway - upon further investigation I usually find them just inside the door or spread on the floor so the height of the stack is dissipated and less obtrusive. In the spirit of full disclosure however, I too take advantage of the kitchen table as well, but I tend to relocate my things a little faster than the rest of the crew. That's not saying much sometimes.
Since we came back from a lacrosse game late yesterday and were so tired and hungry (and currently still dealing with Geoff's vertigo) - making dinner, watching Jon Stewart and Steven Colbert, and falling into bed was all we could manage. Today a full kitchen table greeted me when I slipped down for my morning coffee. Here is what the table and floor around it holds currently:
A pair of Eliza's soccer cleats - hoping they are goose poop free, but fearing to look. Ignorance is bliss.
Three pairs of flip flops.
A reusable Whole Foods grocery bag. A new one.
A soccer backpack.
A fleece jacket.
Two lacrosse sticks.
A dusting cloth.
A small soccer bag used for an overnight stay.
A pair of lacrosse gloves.
A bottle of Advil. I've considered filling an attractive dish with these tablets since the family uses them so much improving both access and appearance.
A yoga strap.
A stuffed bear. This was given to JD by a girl who later broke up with him. The boys had been using it as a target in the lacrosse goal, but JD took it down when it started raining the other day. I like to see some sensitivity about stuffed animals still exists in my children.
A beach towel. Left last summer by a friend, now officially in our possession.
A baseball cap.
A drill. Used for attaching heads to lacrosse shafts.
A box of Kleenex.
Medical paperwork from Geoff's stay at St. Anthony's.
A pair of scissors.
Our portable phone that 90% of the time has a dead battery.
A single lacrosse head.
A pair of tennis shoes.
An overnight bag from the hospital stay.
A receipt for a cheeseburger JD ordered at the golf course yesterday.
And $2 cash. I'm taking this.
So you see how very valuable our kitchen table is to the family. I may need to make two trips with the wicker basket tonight based upon this buildup of belongings. You know, as unattractive (in a decor sense) as this table is to me, looking at it does make me happy (usually). It says a lot about what we do and our varied activities. I try to view the mess as less a commentary on our lack of tidiness and more about the happily active pace of our existence. Sometimes though I feel crabby and make everyone just pick up their s*@#.
I'm wearing this today.
I read somewhere that gingham is considered boho now. I always thought it had more of a preppy vibe, but I love it either way. This shirt is a hand-me-down from JD - a weird place to be in life.
gratitude: the birds and bunnies in our yard, nice parents on our kids' teams, shade, simple dinners
thanks and love.