a kitchen door friend

I want a kitchen door friend.

I actually have friends who would be kitchen door friends, except we don’t live anywhere near each other, and we aren’t able to just drop in for coffee or a scone or to borrow a cup of flour or gossip.

And I don’t have a kitchen door.

And as much as I am thoroughly involved in my life of isolated American suburbia, I kind of like the idea of having a friend who lives nearby who just pops over every day at around the same time, opens the door, pokes her head in, calls “heloo-oooo?” and steps in to check the coffee pot.

I want a friend who helps me fold the laundry on the kitchen table and chats with me while we have dinner simmering on the stove. We’ll make a double batch, so she can take some home.

DSC_0178 I want a friend who comes over with the neighborhood gossip and chases after my babe when I’m up to my elbows in bread dough.

OK, that makes it sound like I want a babysitter/housekeeper friend. But what I really want is a comfortable friendship with someone who I see frequently enough that we don’t have to “catch up”. A friend who feels welcome enough to pop her head in the door and start a pot of coffee, if it needs to be started. A friend who will cook with me and share her day with me.

And the problem is I used to have friends like these. My dear friends Carlie and Kath, who lived nearby, were weekly or near-daily companions. We would walk and talk, grab a coffee or sushi, sit in the backyard with peppermint tea or fold towels on the bed. I still have these friends, I just don’t have the proximity to allow for that kind of friendship.

And being home with a baby, getting no adult interaction other than my Mountain Man or the grocery store clerk a couple times a week, makes me wistful for the days that I could pop over to Kath’s house and let myself in, or meet Carlie at the lake for our daily walk.

I hate talking on the phone, so although I want to be in touch with friends on a regular basis and sometimes even promise to call more often, I don’t. And emailing is so difficult now, requiring some time to myself and having two hands at my disposal. I need a friend who lives down the street, will pop over, help herself to the coffee and sneak a cookie.

I guess I want the life of a a pastoral-yet-urban 1950’s suburban housewife.


  1. You let me know when you find her, because she can be my New Best Friend, too. Although, I am so obsessive, I would probably lock my kitchen door so she wouldn't find the stacks of dirty dishes. Sigh. Can't win.

  2. well, this fantasy also requires that my kitchen be clean, surfaces sparkling, coookies baking in the oven, and that there are little birdies singing on my windowsill flowerbox. And my dog is sitting quietly and wagging his tail as the garden waters itself. So... I'll let you know how that goes.

  3. Well, Megan, once y'all live closer I'd love to trade off days where we pop into each other's houses. I'll make sure to have cookies (and sneak some too!).

  4. thanks pamela. i promise to always steal some cookies. now i just need to work on getting a kitchen door...

  5. so i really am starting to think that we are the same person! :o) i have long wished that i had a friend that would just pop over and chat for awhile and drink coffee and love on my little and all those things. maybe you should move here, or i move there and we'll be each other's kitchen door friend!

  6. I don't know about moving to Kentucky - but Seattle is a pretty decent place to live! It's amazing to me how much more I need a community now that I have a baby. And at the same time, I feel like I also need more space to myself - my introvert is not being cared for! I'm working on getting a kitchen door... and if you end up here, you're more than welcome to come in!


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