I am down to the studs in my 50 year old kitchen. It is stripped bare. It's time for a new beginning. My dear husband is the contractor and so I am not afraid. But I am a little sad to lose my pink sink and cooktop. This is the kitchen that fed my children and saw me from single parent to blended family to (almost) empty nest. It feels that my best meals are behind me, that I will never have my children together around my table the same way again. Teenage boys will not eat directly from my fridge. No more slumber party meals hosting an explosion of girls. Really not many meals at all, as I don't cook nearly as often. Here's to a less often used, but beautiful new kitchen.