For the third year running, I am documenting the year with monthly photographs of my kitchen table. Capturing the jumble that accumulates here, at the heart of the kitchen, is also a way to record some of the domestic stories of our family life.
Just like last January and the January before that, the table is currently home to my one line a day memory book– a diary of the simplest sort, and now in its third year. Whilst I only ever managed to consistently keep a diary for one year of my life (when I was living in Thailand- I have a big box of them up in the loft, my nineteenth year, in all its teenage dramas, heartfelt secrets and whimsical purple prose). This book, requiring but a few lines each day, has proved to be entirely manageable, and a treasured record of quotidian moments and the children’s transient words. To write in it, a propelling pencil, a present from my love, from a favourite shop of mine.
Knitting, for the third consecutive year, also makes an appearance. I’ve struggled with my knitting of late: I usually end up working in the evenings, and so find myself with no time to pick up the needles. I miss their soothing rhythm, and the passage of the yarn, so I’m trying to get back into the habit and to finish these Brooklyn Tweed arm warmers.
There are candles, at this gloomiest time of the year. I’ve been lighting them most evenings of late. These beeswax pretties were a gift from a friend, but I’m also loving my scented Nota Bene candle. Finally, in another echo of my first kitchen table post, some fragrant blue hyacinths. I always find that January passes much more smoothly if I fill the house with flowers, and this year is no exception. Hyacinths, Muscari, Daffodils. Candles, vases of flowers and cups of coffee are what ease me through these dark days of winter.
Blue, grey, and brown: the January 2016 table.