aga - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
There was a fire in that old aga everyday that I thought of myself as a child, and even long into adulthood. It was a whole thing, more than metal, more than nostalgia. Those aromas and the warmth it brought are so intwined with memories of my mother's love, those small moments of affection that built the foundation of who I am today.
The fires were the greatest nuisance. The stove in the kitchen either became a red-hot furnace and purred like a man-eater, or else went out;
The aga stood like a great iron brick warming the kitchen. It devoured wood all day long but it kept the room toasty warm. On winter days we would flock to the kitchen table just to be near it and talk for hours about nothing at all.
The aga sat in the kitchen like a well worn loved one. It had peeling paint and perhaps more food splatters than we'd like to admit to, but it was solid and dependable. Something about it just made that kitchen the place to be, maybe it was something to do with the fact that it kept it warm in the cooler seasons. I don't live in the country anymore, I'm not on a farm with wood to feed the flames, but I hanker after that aga.
Squat to the wall, between the larder and the banged up dining table sat the aga. It was more metal than the old pick up outiside, not by size but by sheer density. The walls were thicker than any tank and I'd hate to be around the day they decide to throw it out. The outside, years ago, was a gentle pea green and it sat on the wooden floor like it had just tumbled from the pages of a fancy magazine. Now the feet sit in their own little pits, and the paint creeps over the metal like a capricious vine as if it never had full coverage in the first place. Inside burns the fire that heats the cottage for most of the year, only in the dead of winter do we need to stock the hearth. Jacob jokes that one day the cottage will fall down and all that will be left is the aga. Sometimes I think he's right.