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The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 12, Issue 3 (June 1, 1937)

brighten the kitchen

brighten the kitchen.

I suggested painting the kitchen. Mirabelle opened her eyes wide. “Now?” she asked. “Of course. The sooner the better.” “But wouldn't you leave that till the spring? Everything looks so dirty after the winter. It's so nice, in the spring, to make everything fresh and new-looking.” “Oh, yes, but …. Anyhow, I'm going to paint it now.”

I can't be bothered arguing with Mirabelle. I always feel I'm really up against her mother, and that I can't put my case effectively through Mirabelle.

What I'd like to tell Mirabelle's mother is that I don't use a coal range which makes everything even grubbier in winter, and even if I did, I would prefer my kitchen to be cheerful. On dull winter days a kitchen can be a very depressing place. Anything I can do to lighten and brighten it, is worth doing.

Another thing I almost said to Mirabelle is that the spring itself is such a cheerful season that, even when one is indoors, one's eyes and thoughts are outside. I'm afraid a kitchen can't contain me in the spring—there's usually a leaf tapping at the window or a stray sunbeam to beckon me out.

Meanwhile, I'm going to have a working bee. Anyone can try his or her hand at washing down the walls, but I need an expert for painting the ceiling. A boxer would be best, as he is used to keeping his hands up. But I don't think I know a boxer.

I'm going to be the one to choose the paint. It's going to be a very good enamel, as kitchen-walls require fairly frequent washing.

I don't think I'll have white this time, but a warm cream. There are a few nail-holes that I must putty up. My trouble is that I'm always thinking of new places to hang things in my kitchen and cup-hooks have a great attraction for me. I'm going to be ruthless, though. Out comes everything except what holds something in a truly labour-saving position.

And when my kitchen is painted, I'm going to make some flat cushions to tie on the seats of my kitchen chairs. Age must have its comforts.

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