I'm such a little kitchen witch sometimes. Here I am, as I clean my tiny little nook meant for cooking and sharing, ending up with these accidental beautiful little shrines to that which I love. I have a shrine like space for a love of coffe on top of my dishwasher, which is right next to the stove and the teakettle. And my dining table is
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My in-laws don't understand why I'm so bizarrely anal about KEEPING THE FUCKING KITCHEN CLEAN, OKAY? but that's where I do most of my "work"; clean, uncluttered spaces and spotless windows just lend themselves to secret, unspoken altars. When I see a bare surface, free from debris and unnecessary knickknacks I see an endless expanse of possibilities.
I'd love, love, love to have a small, obvious altar in the kitchen, but that's a hella risky game to play in this house. (My father-in-law throws other people's things out without asking, and he has a bad habit - AS IF BINNING OTHER PEOPLE'S PERSONAL POSSESSIONS WITHOUT EVEN ASKING OR INFORMING THEM WASN'T ENOUGH OF A BAD HABIT - of breaking, killing, maiming and ruining things that aren't his. And the last time I left an altar out in a communal space? HE THREW FUCKING //GARBAGE// ON IT, BECAUSE, OH, HEY, THIS FUCKING LOOKS LIKE A TRASH CAN.)
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At least my boyfriend understands that I like them, and perhaps sees them as tabletop centerpieces....he even liked the "coffee shrine". *giggle*
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