Chaos Magic

   OUR homely, slightly cluttered kitchen has become a higgledy piggledy shambles!  Three distinct zones have emerged. The upper zone is much as usual, some Dutch still lifes, cobwebs, the rich reds and midnight blue of the Ton Shulten October calender and a 'Herbalists without Borders' calender with planting records and herbal remedies that I love too. Two little shelves above the sink with their familiars; a green glass vinegar bottle, a shimmering aventurine tumblestone of the same shade, a miniature Ganesh figure with inexplicably half a walnut at his feet,  a woodburning of Celtic hares gifted by a friend when we moved here and a champagne cork... There's a fake Victorian clock in soft reds, greens and blues, a mobile of sun ,moon and stars, spices on high shelves and fruit in baskets that I'm too short to see into.
            The middle zone - table, worktops and every available surface is where a hurricane has scattered items in a miscellany of misplacement...The kitchen table, erstwhile a civilised adult space of placemats, fruit and flowers now sports two demijohns of fermenting wine, a bowl of apples, two yellow and green squashes still a little muddy from the garden, an almost empty box of Muscat grapes,salt and pepper pots, a bottle of Rescue Remedy, bank statements, a banana jar fruitfly trap,a packet of nematodes awaiting application to my vine weevil infested flowerpots, housekeys, scissors, a purple puppy ball, some loose change, table napkins,some curly kale in a bag, a torch,two mobile phones,a harness and lead and a bowl of tomatoes with one large ripe chilli. The chairs are no better  - a rucksack full of hake and pollack waiting to be frozen, a pile of dog towels and a large wicker basket of cooking apples. The appliances and worktops fare little better along with the top of a large dog crate housing unironed laundry, puppy pads, tissues, kitchen rolls, wipes, piles of recycling, eggshells to make slug repellent, cookery books, damp hats and the remains of lunch.

                                                 

       In the midst of this mayhem, spouse and I sit in bewildered silence, gazing dazedly at the lower zone of the kitchen...the freshly washed floor, the space, empty of all but Meg's crate, her newly , washed fluffy bed, fresh water, a clean puppy pad and Meg, fast asleep and still tiny, dreaming of the morning's visit to the fish market with its mind expanding smells and the farm store where she posed like a starlet for her worshipping public, now visibly growing daily and completely oblivious of the upheaval brought about by her arrival..