In our kitchen, we have an oval Victorian drop-leaf table. It has been in the family since my father-in-law was a child, if not before, and it has seen a lot of action, and a number of homes over the years. It is definitely past its best, marked by mug stains, felt pen marks, fading and scuffs. Nevertheless, this kitchen table is very much the heart of our home. Standing next to a large sash window that looks on to the garden, it benefits from natural light and a view to the hill beyond.
All sorts of things find their way on and off the table during the course of a day. Meals (of course) but also toys, books, letters, craft activities, laptops, medicine, to-do lists… a microcosm of family life. It occurred to me, when photographing the table in all its messy glory for this post, that it might be interesting to photograph that tired old table through the course of the year, to discover what stories it can tell.
So, this is January. A brief and quiet moment to myself with a cup of tea in my favourite mug (a reminder of a summer tradition). Hyacinths are a permanent fixture at this time of year, in a cracked flowerpot on a stray saucer: a homely centrepiece. January, to me, seems a perfect time to knit, and I am making baby socks- my first ever pair, using this beautiful yarn, bought on a trip to London over Christmas. Finally, a new notebook, with pen to match. I hadn’t come across the one line a day notebooks until a blog reader recommended them to me, but I love the concept of them- writing a couple of sentences, a tiny snapshot of each day, building up to a five year record of life lived . Also, I am an absolute sucker for gilt-edged books, so I just couldn’t resist!
Orange, turquoise, terracotta and blue: the January table.