Stretching my sewing tape end to end on one side of the kitchen, and adding a foot to the other, makes my kitchen 5′ x 6′. 
It works fine.  Two burners, tiny fridge, tiny sink.
The sun streams in.  
The white reflects the brightness of the day.  
I was going to leave it at that, until I started remembering different kitchens in my life.
The first was climbing up and sitting on the edge of the sink, who knows how old, as my mom cooked dinner.  I would do different antics, wanting to lighten the mood.  I remember vividly, mimicking an Indian accent, pretending I was “Krishnamurti speaking” over and over “Krisnamurti, here, and speaking”. 
The next was the most depressing kitchen I’ve ever been in.  I’ll leave that one alone.
On to the one filled with sun and much fun.  A huge round oak table that supported our changing lives- from my mom pounding out a story on her Smith & Corona to my friends gathering around after cutting class, eating everything in sight because of the munchies.
Summers and weekends we would return to where I pretend to be Krisnamurti.  To the table that held a chip, marking the number of years of my dad’s sobriety, proudly displayed in a knot of the wood.  The same table that I slammed my fist down upon, in anger, wanting so badly, to prove many a point.
Then came the low to the ground table in Guatemala.  The hours and hours of drinking coffee, philosophizing, creativity flowing, under a thatch roof.  A kitchen filled with beautiful hand made everything- from the dishes to the yogurt.  The wake from the occasional boat passing, hitting the dock just out the open doors.
Skipping over many kitchens to the one that I made with my own hands.   Heavy, round cornered, 1950’s stove and refrigerator.  A stain on the wall where the match strike became the light for the burners.  Simple.  Easy to change.  And change it did!  Into a state of the art re-model.  Expanding the standard, and raising the height of the cupboards, to meet that of my then husband.
Coming around, full circle, to the sun on my back, this morning, here, in my tiny kitchen.
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