Behind closed drawers

We'll be having gobs of Moldovan friends in our yard for a swim party this Sunday. I hope the weather report is correct and the ghastly heat wave that's coming Saturday will break and bring us bearable weather that day. But if they can't stand the heat, they will end up in the kitchen. So it was time to get serious about getting it in shape.

When we move into a new place, my motto for putting stuff away is out of sight so I don't go out of my mind. For the kitchen, I give a bit of thought to where I want the plates, glasses and utensils, but the rest of the things get shoved in wherever they can fit. Just as you don't really know a person until you go camping with them, you can't really know a kitchen until you have cooked in it. Back in November, I shoved and shoved, got everything behind cupboard doors and crammed in drawers, broke down the boxes and called it good.

Now I know how this kitchen works. It has a decent amount of counter space, a floor that refuses to look dirty, only two working burners, a finicky broiler and a long stretch from sink to stove. Roller skates would be helpful, but instead I chop, chop, chop - walk, walk, walk - dump, dump, dump - cook, cook, cook. The Tupperware kept falling through the wire rack corner thing in the Ikea cabinets, the pasta was getting persnickety, the spices had no space and the pots and pans were just plain pesky. It was time to tackle it.

Ahh, just like moving in, but without the boxes.

OK, I guess I needed a few boxes. I am not a hoarder, I am not a hoarder.

I found a boat load of oats.

And oodles of noodles.

Try to fall through, I dare you.

My favorite pot is still the one Ernst found dumpster diving.

Labeling is supposed to remove the mystery.

The scary thing? This is the freezer after I organized it.

The junk drawer will need its own day.