Daily Blague

On Tuesday afternoon, I got up from the computer, left the blue room where I spend my days, and turned on Radio RJ. It was time to do something about the kitchen closet.

The kitchen closet is not in the kitchen, largely because the kitchen is a closet, almost (I've certainly been in larger closets). The kitchen closet is on the other side of the entrance hall, or "foyer" as entrance halls are called for some very strange reason. It is actually half of a clothes closet. We keep winter coats and light bulbs in the other half.

I wouldn't dream of publishing a photograph, even if I could take an intelligible one. But this story isn't about the kitchen closet. It's about how I felt the energy to clean it out. After a year or more of staying out of the kitchen as much as possible, I've let most of what's stocked in the kitchen closet get too old to use. I may continue to stay out of the kitchen as much as possible, but at least I'm storing much less garbage. I threw away old nuts, pasta, grains, crackers, and - five fruit cakes. I was able to distinguish the most recent fruit cake, received this past holiday season. I opened it up and enjoyed a slice. It tasted very good. I will enjoy the rest of it in coming weeks. Next year, I might even put the fruit cake in the kitchen when (and if) it arrives - and not in the kitchen closet.

A few exotic bottled sauces got the heave-ho, too. I have become a very unadventurous eater.

The music was glorious. Among the bigger pieces were the "Rach III," Schubert's Ninth, and Vivaldi's Nisi Dominus, furiously sung by Nathalie Stutzmann. Also lovely to hear was Fauré's Masques et bergamasques. It was warm enough to crack the balcony door.

Cleaning the kitchen closet was something of a holiday. How weird is that?

I know that kitchen closets are a dreary topic. But I'm sure you'd much rather read about that than hear about my exciting time at the dentist's yesterday afternoon.