The Day my Kitchen Smiled

I have had enough. I said into the frigid air as I pushed the snow into the shovel and tossed it behind my back. I do not want to be your friend anymore, I said to the innocent snow shovel while stabbing the crusty snow with it. March in Maine, I sighed. Snow piled up in never-ending heaps, icicles hung from every gutter and chunks of dirty ice were scattered about. Even the snowmen, once cheerful in newly fallen snow and bright-colored mittens, looked burdened by the lifelessness. Enough. I wasn’t quite sure what yet another March snowstorm would do to my already wobbly sanity. Enough!

Winter’s gloom permeated my home. The walls inside my small dark apartment mimicked the world outside. I plopped myself into my rocker in the kitchen and looked around me. My kitchen was dark and dreary. Was there no escaping winter’s dark shadows? The dark blue-colored walls seemed to be laughing at my depressed state. I scowled at them and begin to think. I do not have any control over what happens outside, but I do have control over the inside. I became determined to make myself a little refuge Maine’s never-ending winter. What is a happy color, I thought. Hmmmmm. Happy, really happy. Orange! My kitchen would be orange.

Two days later, my friend Martha knocked on my door. “Come in!” I yelled. Martha stepped inside. I was in my kitchen eating my breakfast, surrounded by paints, ladders, brushes and drop cloths.

“What are you doing?” she asked with a smile.

“What does it look like I’m doing? Do you see all my stuff?” I asked with a smirk. “ I told you I couldn’t stand the darkness one moment longer!”

When Martha left, I got to work. I rolled the walls and stretched the pole to the ceiling with each stroke. While I waited for the walls to dry, I started on the trim. The sun moved around the side of the house, and it began to get hard to see. I grabbed some special lights. I looked at the clock. Three o’clock. No wonder I was hungry. I grabbed some lunch then picked up the roller again. I put on the second coat of paint. I finished painting the trim. I checked and rechecked every spot and fixed all of my mistakes. Finally, I was done! I looked at the clock. It was 9:00. It took me TEN HOURS to paint my kitchen! I wiped the sweat away from my forehead and fell into a chair.

The next morning I crawled out of bed, sore from all that hard work. I spied a few spots of orange on my arm I’d missed in the shower the night before as I walked down my hallway into the kitchen. I stepped inside. My orange walls smiled at me. It was as if the sun sparkled against the walls! Mission accomplished, I thought.

Moments later, a cup of hot tea in my hand, I rocked in my rocker. I looked up and saw a slate grey sky framed in sunny orange. Only a few more weeks until the days become longer, a few weeks until we’ll begin to see the ground again, I thought and smiled back at my kitchen walls.