Call & Response

The Call: Well Traveled — Cheryl

Years ago, when I was in college, my aunt found this desk in the alley behind her Boston apartment. Since her tiny place was stuffed to the gills, she saved it for me. It traveled up to my parents’ house in Maine, then down to Dennis’s folks’ house in New Hampshire. From there, a friend drove it to Colorado (and lost the front “flap” somewhere between the East Coast and the Rocky Moutains). The desk came back to Maine when we moved (and finally got professionally refinished), and has taken up residence in nearly every room of this house. It seems happiest in the kitchen, and very often when Dennis or one of the kids is looking for something, I tell them, “It’s in [or on] the antique desk in the kitchen.”

The Response: The Joy of Baking — Jessica

Rather than the heart of the home, my kitchen is more like the main load/offload area — all those horizontal surfaces just cry out for stuff to be dumped on them. My pantry is probably even worse a collector of stuff than the counters. But that is all my own fault since, in an effort to be economical, I tend to buy big boxes of stuff from Costco.