The warmth of wood

We had always known that we would have wooden worktops. The cottage and its piccolo size meant that granite would have felt too grandiose and would have weighed it down somehow. Mr M's love of wood, and our general draw to oak elsewhere in the cottage meant that it was a simple decision. Our worktops are simple hunks of oak. Ridiculously heavy, the team painstakingly measured and templated, and measured again. Choices were made on which side should be used for the best knots and twirls. Taking inspiration from Curlew Cottage we asked for drainage lines to be routed, more for aesthetics than anything else. With the upstands now in, Mr M has begun his wood worshipping - sanding the work surfaces down each night and applying Danish oil. A process that will take 10 days.  The kitchen is still out of bounds apart for the washing machine and sink. Washing up has taken a paranoid twist - every drip or splash is wiped off immediately for fear that it will sink in. Who knew one could be quite so precious about wood. Woe betide the person who spills red wine or tomato sauce or turmeric. In fact, I think turmeric will be banned. Or the kitchen dust sheeted before the small spice jar of orange permanence is opened. Perhaps, we'll only eat white food and drink white wine.