Nurturing the pantry

I cleaned my pantry. Years and years ago I was visiting an old friend in Petite Forte, Newfoundland who had a bed and breakfast for a few days. Between the kitchen and the dark hallway she had a white shelved pantry with blue willow dishes. I loved the beauty and authenticity of that. A few years later I bought a set of blue willow plates for sixteen people and I still have them. On Boxing Day as I was putting those dishes away I decided to use the top shelf to display them, and that lead to cleaning the whole thing. 

There were only a few things that had to go. Quinoa that I rarely cook was brought to the studio for a friend, and a can of expired cranberry sauce was tossed. I always make my own. Everything else just needed to be organized and placed. Simple things like big dishes on top of small had to be resorted. It is a small room that holds a sink, washer and dryer a nice big window, and because it has a solid pine door that shuts nicely I often leave it in disarray as I toss things in there without a spot where they fit. 

And so I stood on the step ladder and made some beauty out of the mess. And everyday since I have walked in there ten times a day to get something or put something and I feel good. I can do it with ease. I can see my blue willow on the top shelf and think of Petite Forte. I can see my mother's silver steel bread mixing pan, the wooden tray my father made, the picture of Uncle Don at the dinner table. Suddenly it is a nice little room that is not irritating me. It is a tiny room in an old house that I can love. And I am in there a lot. And this is a room that gets neglected.

Neglect.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Shut the door on it. 

Well I know it works, having done it time and time again.

Nurture.

Take the time.

Love what you have.

Make the best of what you have.

That works too. And it feels quite different than the other.  When I nurture something it grows into something lovely. Like the lavender outside my door. After a time it becomes beautiful and fragrant. There is something else though, seeing that lavender outside my door changes me, from the inside. I begin to see myself as someone who tends and cares and the beauty it creates makes me feel different on the inside about my surroundings on the outside. And that makes me happier. 

Walking in and out of that pantry with ease gets rid of an everyday irritant. It makes me feel like life is smoother. And it is a small thing, and of course this is one of the themes of these Sunday letters. Small things matter. Beauty matters. Ease matters.

So sometimes things as small as the pantry matter, and they help make life sweeter.