How can we look at our lives or walk through our homes without thinking of the memories made in our kitchens, from the triumphs to the accidents to the various friends and family who we have shared them with. Today is about sharing some of those memories, those scenes from the past that mean so much more than can ever properly be described...
Left to Right...
My husband's first Thanksgiving in America - and first time making a turkey.
My great-aunt and grandmother, with a conversation I wish I could have been there for.
My initial fear of handling live crabs, as snapped by a friend at her place in DC.
Meeting my great aunt and great grandmother for the one and only time at the family farm in Southern Illinois.
My husband's last day of work in Portland before we moved out to the farm, suprised with a gift of wine and charcuterie from his boss.
My brother at the kitchen table, me in the balloon hat.
My sister-in-law and niece, trying the ice cream sundaes they'd never made before, at their home in Australia.
A selfie for a blogger friend in Virginia who had gifted me the apron.
My grandpa in his normal spot at the kitchen table - and with his regular cigarette, coffee & crossword puzzle ready to go.
My dad in our home in Oregon, where my memories are fuzzy at best.
My mother in our home in Oregon, exemplifying the 1970s.
My husband butchering our Kune Kune pig at our farmhouse on the Oregon Coast, where we quickly learned the accuracy of the breed definition:"fat & round".
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