It wasn't the cloudy weather that had me pause from time to time, smiling sadly out the window; it's the fact that the countdown has begun until I leave this apartment – and this wonderful, tiny kitchen – for my cross-country move. At the end of November, I'll vacate, hand in my keys, and say goodbye to the counter top and oven that helped me to grow as a baker over the past several months.
Although I'm giving away or selling most of my things, I'm reluctant to part with the kitchen items, not because they are of any great quality, but because my bowls and wisk and measuring spoons remind me of the various new desserts I've tried, the chocolate chip cookies that I've compulsively attempted to perfect, and as always, the delighted reception of my treats. Maybe it's ridiculous, but it is, after all, my first set of baking tools and I don't believe I've worn them down sufficiently yet. So I'm keeping the pink mixing bowls and the plastic measuring cup, and even my requisite Betty Crocker cookbook (amongst a few others).
With a few weeks left, I doubt this will be my last day turning on the oven and pulling the flour from the cupboard, which is a relief. And I only hope that the brownies and the cupcakes and all that I've made have absorbed some of the nostalgia, comfort, and bliss that I've felt myself working around my kitchen this weekend.