As the peeling yellow wallpaper shouts, “Old people” it also whispers safety.
My grandparents built an open-concept kitchen addition on their house themselves. Their kitchen has always been my favourite part. As soon as you walk in, it is bright, my eyes have to adjust quickly as the light radiates on the slippery hardwood floor. But be careful not to trip on the hard fake pug in his dog bed. Why is it there? I’m still not too sure.
The closet to the right holds heavy and old leather jackets that defuse a musty smell, even my grandma's blue horse coat which is probably older than me. The sweet and fresh pressed apple air freshener is in the bathroom beside the closet, though thankfully the smell of dinner is overbearing the pungence of the febreeze. Of course, Gummey (that’s what the grandkids call my Grandma), is making my favourite, spaghetti with meat sauce. The thick and oily tomato sauce, ground beef and soft pasta was a common meal throughout my childhood as all four grandchildren loved it. The sunflower cloth placemats with a dark green background are already set for the messy meal.
The exit to the backyard is connected to the kitchen. It’s a large white wooden door with white curtains and a cold metal doorknob. Michael, my older cousin, his hockey goalie picture is tucked in the window of the door and never removed. On the other side, is a glass door, and would always swing heavily open and closed enough that it would break your eardrums every time. When the door is open though, you could see their fuzzy light blue couch on the back porch, which was the old back seat of my grandpa's truck. A black skateboard is under the couch with Michael’s name on it, but now it’s mine.
There is a small grey box TV on the other side of the round wooden table that is in the middle of the kitchen. The TV is tucked in the corner beside the white fridge which is covered in Christmas cards, the cousin's school pictures and magnets of my grandparent’s travels. When my grandpa is watching, golf is usually on and his silent loyalties lie with Jack Nicklaus but when I was a child, I had first dibs so it was always Looney Tunes and Teletoon. Roadrunner, Inspector Gadget, and Buggs Bunny were some of my favourites, oh, and we of course can’t forget about SpongeBob. To the left of the TV is an open square frame in the wall you could talk through. It is useless to me until Christmas when I can see my Grandma’s Christmas village, which she puts out. It has ice skaters twirling on a pond, carolers whose song gets cut off because the village is so old, little homes and snow that looks like cotton out of a pillow. A stack of several different Sears Christmas catalogues and People magazines are right below the open frame on a wooden bench. I was always allowed to circle my favourites in the catalogue as a child and wait to see if my grandparents would get it for me on Christmas day.
The kitchen itself is a “U” shape. Above the sink is a window where you can see the clotheslines, my grandma refuses to get rid of it. The salad spinner is on the counter, prepared for me to clean the lettuce. The kettle and hard sugar are ready to be used after dinner. But don’t forget to check the glass bowl for a sweet after dinner too, I promise they will be stale and probably be years old.
Though that house on Elizabeth St. is someone else's now and only Gummey remains, her apartment a block over still holds the same smell. Hopefully, the kids that moved into their old house appreciate all the memories that kitchen holds.
