When I was a little girl my parents built a kitchen island. I don’t remember the building of it, and I don’t really remember the "before” – but I do remember it being there all of a sudden, a hulking fixture of Formica and walnut-stained wood dividing the kitchen and dining room. On the kitchen side were cabinets (& maybe drawers); on the dining room side was a “breakfast bar,” with two barstools, where I did indeed eat breakfast -cold cereal or instant oatmeal most days, egg-in-a-hole on weekends.
When I was 10, my best friend Missy and I decided to logroll a watermelon. We were very young and very foolish, but we really did think we could walk on a watermelon like a log. Boy, were we wrong, and boy, was my mother furious when she discovered the mess we’d made and unsuccessfully tried to clean up. When we moved a year later, she found watermelon seeds under the island.
The log home we’re hoping to buy when our current house sells needs an island, don’t you think?
These examples all have their charms:
“In a sense, each of us is an island. In another sense, however, we are all one. For though islands appear separate, and may even be situated at great distances from one another, they are only extrusions of the same planet, Earth.” ~ J. Donald Walters