Home Alone

Retirement has crept up on us, unnoticed in the busy days and months of relocation. We have become used to our strange new rhythm of life, conducted in harmony, together, one smoothly oiled unit again.

Today is different. Parted for once, to follow diverse pursuits – he to explore the new world of outdoor painting with a newly discovered group of kindred spirits and me at home, armed with pastry, a rolling pin and the best of local Welsh ingredients to try my hand at home baking in my new Welsh kitchen.

The hub of the home! That’s what the kitchen has again become in many people’s minds. A 21^st century ‘back to the country’ phenomenon, reinventing what, for centuries past, has been normal, traditional and so ordinary as not to be noticed. Now, however, it is all the rage.

 

The cottage seems empty today. I saunter about, enjoying my new little ‘kingdom’ – queendom, perhaps. I can do what I please today. Hard to get used to after days, weeks, months with a newly retired husband. I can do nothing... or I can do anything I want to. But I have been shopping in readiness for this day, buying fresh peppers, cheese, mushrooms; I have extracted meat from the freezer, prepared my ground well. So my course is set. It is a strange choice, maybe – a day of baking in the kitchen: in traditional ‘women’s territory’! But it’s my choice and I am relishing the luxury of an uninterrupted day with time to ‘get on’. Today I am safe to be left at home alone; next time, maybe, who knows? I may get up to mischief...