Well, they watched Veep, and I kind of watched Veep, and kept my eye on a neighbor fixing dinner. Here's the view from the living room here:
In the evening, many of the windows across the street are brightly lit, and one pair of them highlights someone's kitchen. I couldn't actually see the kitchen itself, but the movements of its inhabitant made it clear.
I tried not to watch, I really did...but his blinds were up, and the light was on, and he was moving around that kitchen as if he were performing a ballet: Sweeping across the windows to grab stuff from cupboards, and then back across to stir something steaming on the stove.There was a counter or a table (again, apartment structures were not in my vision) right against the window, where a lot of careful chopping went on, while dinner simmered.
I'd like to reiterate that I wasn't sitting here with binoculars, or my zoom lens, or anything--I was simply looking just to the right of the television from where I sat. And contemplating and comparing. Kitchens.
When Clint and I were designing our kitchen, at the top of my wish list was window in front of sink. I don't want to stare at the wall while I do dishes. And I want to someday be able to work at the sink and keep an eye on the grandchildren who are out on the tire swing in the back yard. (We have neither grandchildren or a tire swing yet, I just like to think ahead.)
Anyway, I love our kitchen, but I imagined cooking in this small, city kitchen, last night. Stove on the left of a set of double windows, and sink to the right, I would have set that place up just as it was: workspace at the window. I would keep those blinds up also, and chop onions and keep an eye on the the street below, watching people move about, with their kiddies and their doggies.
Dinner was ready after 40 minute or so, and the kitchen light went out, and the show was over. Dang.
I am not a peeping tom!
I wonder what time they get up for breakfast.