I no longer have a kitchen. I have a room with 7/9 of a usable floor, most of a ceiling, and a hole where a load-bearing wall used to be.
My refrigerator is in the dining room and the table is covered with my husband’s tools. My dishes are in the basement. Food that was in the pantry is now in my living room. And my cabinets are on the porch. In pieces.
New wire had to be run to get the wiring up to code (They didn’t do ground wire in the 60s???), so that meant accessing the attic…through my closet.
That’s ok, because we can get dressed in the guest room. It’s the only room without fiberglass insulation all over the floor.
But that’s just the stuff that needs to happen. Making the kitchen better meant making it more user-friendly and, let’s be honest, prettier. That means decisions. Aesthetic decisions.
For instance, I wanted white cabinets. Simple. Except now my couch can not be seen through the layer of over 200 paint chips I must survey. All of them are white.
I’m working to get back to normalcy. Working until things make sense again. In revisions we do the same thing, deleting a character here or developing a plot point there until the story comes out the way it should.
My kitchen is going through a massive revision and it’s destroying every other room of my house. But if I ever want to make (eat) baked goods again? I need to keep working at the little decisions that will make this kitchen whole.