Loved Onto My Own Two Feet

About two weeks ago, I moved into a new apartment- all by myself. I’m no stranger to apartment living, and Ive had some really great roommates, however, after years of sharing a kitchen, this year I get to bake Christmas cookies for fun, make zucchini and pumpkin breads, lamb stew, turkey chili, and Julia Child’s cream of mushroom soup in my own kitchen where I can pretend I’m hosting a food network TV show without worrying about someone coming in.

Let’s be real, who hasn’t ever pretended they were Julia Child in the kitchen at least once?

The most exciting thing about my new apartment is that though it is very small, it is a real home because it is furnished with memories, keepsakes, love, generosity and prayers – of people I’ve known for a long time and people I “just” met.

I make my Christmas cookies with my paternal grandmother’s cookie cutters and roll out the dough with my mom’s rolling pin. I make Julia Child’s cream of mushroom soup using the recipe in Mastering the Art of French Cooking, my 30th birthday present from my parents.

I eat my soup from bowls in an every day China set my friend’s mom gave me, on a table provided by Scott Boulevard and I’m careful not to spill anything on my great grandmother’s table cloth.

When I want to watch a Christmas movie, Oliver and I settle into the chair my good friend Melissa gave me, (it’s been in her family for 17 years) along
with the sofa she also gave me, the first thing she and her husband bought when they were married.

My pots and pans were a gift from my sister, Jojo, and my Christmas tree was “expertly” put together by my sister, Ana Christina.” My tree sits in the spot where my parents, Ana and I gathered in a circle in my unfurnished apartment, and my family said a prayer of blessing over my home.

My apartment is a lovely place to live, cook, work, relax and enjoy the company of family and friends, but it is more than that. It is a home, in the making for years, peppered with memories of the past, blessings of the present and hopes for the future, thanks to the kindness and influence of literally countless people who have loved me onto my own two feet.

2 thoughts on “Loved Onto My Own Two Feet

  1. I must confess I have never pretended to be Julia Child. Perhaps Emeril Lagasse, but not Julia. More garlic, please. Seriously, enjoy your new space, and enjoy your freedom to cook, and to reflect on the importance of family and faith.

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