When we first moved to the farm, I had wonderful dreams of having that farmhouse kitchen. You know – the one in the glossy magazines that promised plenty of storage, plenty of work space, and a design to swoon over. After comparing my checkbook with my list of farm needs, I figured I could have a turn-key job done in about…oh…let’s say, the year 3712. And only if the cost of supplies didn’t rise with inflation.
No problem. With my vintage collection of enamelware, Dot’s blue cabinet and other pieces of furniture I collected over the years, I just knew I could still make it perfect. A vintage tablecloth here, The Country Boy’s cast iron over there, and yes, my Fiesta Ware would be a perfect pop of color!
You do know what they say about the best laid plans?
Yes. I do have a farmhouse kitchen. Yes, I do have vintage touches everywhere. But what you don’t see off-camera in those magazines….
I have a re-purposed lick tub in my kitchen, filled with starter/grower which was salvaged off of a feed truck that wrecked. (No one was hurt, thankfully – but the feed was free!)
Underneath one of the tables that acts as extra work space are stacks of canning jars, a dehydrator and cheese-making supplies. (And before you kindly offer the suggestion. The underneath side of my beds are stacked to the springs with more canning jars, soap making supplies, boxes of yarn…)
My food processor – which was purchased to make all those elegant…oh, but so simple….farmhouse meals – is now used to pulverize those starter/grower pellets I got for free. (The babies are still too small to eat the solid pellets.)
My farmhouse table is laden with cooling jars of the season’s jams, jellies and whatever else is in full harvest.
The cheerily yellow-painted walls have splatters from where the last batch of jam got a little too happy.
My precious little apron rack looks a bit dejected from only having one lonely apron still on it, because the others are in the laundry.
The blue cabinet is in desperate need of being wiped down, because I kind of lost control of the cinnamon canister.
And That’s Not All…
And I have to maneuver around an ice chest and a five-gallon bucket, because the Country Boy has wild pigs to process – on the same island I am trying to use for canning. Can you hear him tapping his dusty boot on my not-so-pristine floor?
I always believed that having a perfect farmhouse kitchen would make me the happiest Farm Wife in the world. I could just see the glow of my aura following me throughout the rest of my perfectly decorated farm house.
Well, truth be known? My kitchen really does reflect a true and perfect farm kitchen. One where real farm life happens. Things like canning, processing, cooking and baking. Where we strain milk, make butter and cheese. Dishes are draining on the counter, and where all the hundreds of other things are done on a working farm.
And yes, I do glow. From happiness and contentment, certainly. But just so you know, ‘glowing’ is what we Southern women do. We ‘glow’ instead of sweating. Like a farmhand who is working in the field, and wearing a flannel shirt in 110-degree southern heat would do.
Here are a few more fun posts that take place in a farmhouse kitchen!
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