I was looking at some pictures with my daughter today. We came across some that I took of my grandparents' home after they passed away. I had taken a couple of the front yard where I played as a child. I had one of the living room fireplace that brought back memories of holidays. However, I had 7 of the kitchen appliances. Oven, stove, refrigerator.

It was a shock. How strange it seemed to me that I had taken so many pictures of the kitchen. However, at the time that I took the pictures, the best memories that I had of being with my grandparents were about food. My grandma cooked for me. It was the only thing that I truly enjoyed about her. She was a critical lady who regularly pointed out my flaws.

I loved that her appliances were ancient (from the 1950's) and they still worked great. Like many people from her generation, she saved every penny and fixed things when they broke. However, there were many examples of this throughout the house... so, why my obsession with the kitchen?

I regularly felt lonely, judged, and unaccepted in my grandparents' home. The kitchen was my solace. It was the place where I could find some comfort and joy. It smelled good there. It tasted good there. I could make my grandma happy and proud when I enjoyed her meals.

Just one more example of my food obsession. Thankfully, I don't have to take pictures of kitchens anymore. I've attached a couple of of them.

I think many of us have memories just like that. My Grannie lived on a farm. I can remember going out to the smokehouse to get a ham that had been curing. She stored the syrups she made out there. To this day, syrup should have a smoky aroma to it. Sadly, it doesn't. Grannie would make biscuits for breakfast and let them sit out on a plate all day. If there were any left at dinner, they were just as soft as they were at breakfast.

I learned that jams should be made year round from whatever fruits were in season. Peaches were best from the tree. (Maybe that's why I don't care for them now unless they are from a farmer's market)

Grannie's house was big. They cut it down when I was in my teens. Instead of a long breezeway to get to the kitchen, they converted one of the bedrooms into the kitchen. She no longer needed that big house. It just didn't seem the same, but I loved it there anyway.

I can remember sitting on a bed and playing games with my cousin. We would have to jump up to close the shutters because one of those NW Fla thunderstorms would be blowing across the field. Grannie's house had a tin roof and it was pretty scary there with the thunder, lightening and HUGE raindrops falling on it.

Thank you for reminding me of one of my favorite places and times I've ever had on this journey of life.

cbmare, that's awesome that you have such great memories. What a gift.

My mom and stepdad still live in the house that we moved to when I was 14. So they've lived there about 25 years now. Whenever I go back to visit them in Calif. and pull into their housing tract, I get anxious feelings and really uncomfortable food feelings.

It's where I was lonely and binged everyday after school and then became bulimic/anorexic to compensate. They love me and I'm grateful for that but I'm learning to release those feelings when I go to visit their house.

That is so very sad. I'm so glad you are learning to release those feelings and let the love and family embrace you.

I've never been a binger. By that I don't mean to say that I never ate more than I should of something. To this day, if someone puts boiled peanuts in front of me, I'll keep eating them. (I'm southern, I miss them). However, I don't have access to them out here and only get them when I go back to Fla.

I think I may sound like many other people when I say that I don't understand why someone does a binge and purge. I can't stand throwing up, so the thought of making myself do it on a regular basis eludes me. I'm not trying to dismiss anything that you and others are experiencing. Please don't take it that way. I just don't understand. I think if more people tried to put themselves into your frame of mind instead of just dismissing it, they would be more compasionate and try to understand. (Myself included. I should ask more questions).

Where do you visit in Calif? I'm in the Bay Area. If you come to this area, I'd love to meet you sometime.