Thoughts on life without a kitchen

It’s been three weeks; I feel like I’m in a position to tease out what works and what doesn’t in this situation. Right now we are living in our garden room, which, after setting up a mini-oven, electric camping stove, kettle and mini-larder, now looks like a treehouse/ bedsit.

I almost don’t want to say it out loud, but having all of life’s comforts (except a loo….we don’t have a loo), so nearly all of life’s comforts right there in a small space at the bottom of the garden, engulfed by green, makes me inordinately happy.

When I walk down the garden path every morning with the three cats following, and I step into this space, it feels the same as when I first lived alone - comforting beyond the comfort I experience when I walk through the front door of my home.

Perhaps this is to do with seclusion and outlook. I don’t know. I feed cats, I make my magic green drink, and then I make tea. I put eggs on to boil. I sit outside and drink tea. There are birds in the canopy. Everything smells new. I’m not quite sure how to beat that, nor do I wish to.

Things I’ve noticed not having a kitchen

That it is not the act of washing dishes that I dislike, but the piling up of stuff that happens before it.

That these pepper grinders from the spice rack are better than all the posh pepper grinders.

That you only need one of each thing. Obvious but strangely difficult to achieve. this is particularly true of tongs. Tongs are space thieves.

That paper plates while camping are a false economy. They won’t cope with much beyond a piece of toast, and you can eat a piece of toast without a plate at all. Real plates in a camping situation, however, make things feel happy and for this reason they are worth the washing up.

That eating straight from the pan also feels right.

That hot water from a tap is a true luxury and we would all do well to remember this, and perhaps find a way to tell the kidz.

That you only need one mug and glass per person. Any more, and you leave people with the very dangerous idea that they can use a new one every time they want a drink.

That a bottle opener is essential. I had to go and rummage for this, because I use it every day, due to the bottles of coke that come with meal deals being the old-fashioned kind.

That after a hearteningly short amount of time, children who’ve been brought up eating good food will eventually tire of Deliveroo and request real food again.

That Deliveroo cannot be trusted to bring you everything you ordered.

That tea towel turnover is HIGH. Giant stacks of tea towels are needed when camping, together with the ability to wash and dry them.

That being crammed into one space, including the animals…makes it feel like summer holidays, particularly in the morning, when people are dancing around each-other toasting toast, and scrambling eggs, and brewing coffee, and everything is chaos and there are animals on both sofas, and there are dust particles in a sunbeam. I have a peculiar nostalgia for this vibe; the look and the feel and the smell and the sound of it…partly because childhood, and partly because my children continually make efforts to be away from me, and I’ll take whatever I can get. LOL.

Enough. You should all go and see the Zurbaran exhibition at the National Gallery if at all possible. Yes there are crowds and yes it is worth it. I mean…LOOK…

x Laetitia