Mums Kitchen

Mums Kitchen. If I went back to the house of my childhood days, I'm sure I'd see mum in the kitchen, as my eyes start to glaze. Busily moving pots and pans from the stove to the sink, I would hold onto that vision afraid just to blink. Her blue and white apron all covered in flour, preparing food and baking hour after hour. Just hand written notes, no need for a recipe book, Things made so many times she'd barely need to look. I would sit at the table and into the kitchen I'd stare, watching mum work away making such delectable fare. The aroma's and smells that would waft through the house, I'd breathe deeply and pretend that they entered my mouth. There would be pasties laid on and the apple pie of your dream, lamingtons, jelly cakes both all covered in cream. cloud soft sponge cakes and chocolate chip bickies, Mum made cooking look easy but was really quite tricky. Mum would bring me some tea and load up a plate, I wouldn't care about sugar or worry about weight. Eating to my fill and my mouth gets the drools, Then I would say, "Mum, your kitchen rules".