I’ve owned and lived in many houses. As I moved from home to home a pattern transpired—about my likes, dislikes and must have.
Two story houses. Yes. I’m sure it has to do with my childhood. I grew up in a three story house and I feel safer if my bedroom is on the second floor…I understand it’s an illusion, but so be it.
A window in my kitchen. I don’t care where it is or what the view looks like, must have a window or I feel claustrophobic.
High ceilings because I own rather large art pieces. Of course my kids have a different theory, they claim I am a victim of the Napoleon complex, you know, short people-high ceilings, tall furniture?
As I write this I realize that I have a lot more must have than I knew. So I’ll cut to the chase: cooking arrangements.
Noticed I didn’t just say—the stove…
This is why.
I will not, cannot cook while staring at a wall. Regardless how fancy tile or elaborate backsplash may cover such wall. In other words, I do not cook with my back turned.
“Your back turned to what?” A naïve builder asked.
“Well, a killer, an intruder, a murdered.” I replied.
His eyes rolled so far back into his head, I figured they’ll get stuck there. That didn’t happen, but he didn’t build my house either. He told a friend I should go into therapy.
Now when I make similar statements I explain I’m a mystery writer, everyone gets a good laugh and that’s that. But think about it—why are kitchens, old or new, designed in a way that forces the cook to turn his/her back to the rest of the room? I like to talk while I cook, the kids growing up loved to watch me cook. They still do. It’s not like I have secret ingredients I want to hide. Do you?
Coming to think of it, that’s a good idea for my next book…the secret ingredients I mean.
Let’s chew on that for now.