Ever since I spied my first blog. Ever since I started to blog. Ever since I realized that I needed a place for all of my recipes and links, I've wanted to have a "foodie" blog. Once that decision was made I needed to name it. The name would have to have meaning to me. The name would have to bring back the memories I keep close and safe in my heart of my mother in her kitchen and the wonderful meals she would prepare for friends and family.
I'm a firm believer that sometimes you are led by a power unknown to places you need to be. So, with that in mind, I began the search for the name of this blog. I tried this and I tried that and then I tried another angle. All of my initial attempts were stopped dead in their tracks because the name had already been used by someone else. Bummer, I thought.
So, I leaned back in my kitchen chair, closed my eyes and mulled over the words that slid into my head and the dear memories that floated in and out of my soul. I saw myself walking home from school wondering what mom was going to put on the kitchen table for dinner that night. As I saw myself walking up the driveway, I clearly recalled that as sure as the sun shines in the sky, as soon as you opened the back door that led to the kitchen...you knew. The aroma of good food would be there day after day. And, there would be my mother, standing at the kitchen sink peeling a potato or tossing a salad wearing a little apron...a kitchen towel slung over her shoulder like an expensive shawl.
That was it...the deed was done. I would name my recipe and food blog, Standing at the Kitchen Door. Those words brought back to me not only the comfort of my youth but the memory of the wonderful meals created by my mother's hands.
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