Update: The New Kitchen

I wrote some time ago about the marriage-challenging ordeal of going to Jerry's [a huge local home-improvement center] to plan our new kitchen. In a recent comment, someone asked how this project is going.

Answer: moving right along.

We agonized and fiddled and juggled the plans from Jerry's and finally decided they just wouldn't work. If you order cabinets from them, everything comes in standard boxy increments--2-inches this way, 3 inches in height. Or whatever.

Well. We have a kitchen that is almost a hundred years old and pretty small and with no place to expand. And it was, I am convinced, designed by dear great-grandpa Daniel in about 5 minutes' time, without consulting dear Great-grandma Anna. I think Daniel was a practical farmer who wasn't into esthetics or detail. We note the chimney's path from the kitchen on up until it finally emerged from the roof a good number of inches to the south.

Yes, well, the kitchen.

So if you have a kitchen like this it's an exercise in frustration to try to work with standard-size cabinets. Instead, we called on Kevin Baker who is a rising star in the local cabinetry/carpentry field, and he was happy to work with us and all our odd measurements and making sure the one cabinet was deep enough to cover the chimney hole.

Kevin is very detailed and thorough and has come back several times to verify small decisions like the size of the flour/sugar drawers.

I think he's working on building the cabinets as we speak.

Paul and the boys finished tearing out the chimney last Friday, from the attic, down through the boys' room, and down into the kitchen where I suppose the wood cookstove was vented into it for many years.

Taking down an old chimney is an experience all its own. I covered up everything I could with old sheets and closed every door I could, but it was still a big mess of old mortar and fine soot. And worse things like dead birds [which I didn't have to clean up, thankfully] and innumerable mouse and bat droppings that still drop down from the hole like a fine rain when the boys pound around upstairs.

In fact, seeing all these dreadful ancient artifacts made me think that it's no wonder I have asthma and Emily felt so sick in this house. In fact, the wonder is that we aren't all sick.

I suggested we move Emily home, if she can stand the climate again, and have a dawdy haus [Amish grandpa house] out back for her, but Paul said the zoning laws won't let us. Sigh.

So yeah, the kitchen.

The "look" I wanted was like an old but nice farmhouse kitchen, so no stainless steel or granite. We're getting maple cabinets in a simple design, a tiled backsplash, and white appliances. And "pewter" countertops from Lanmark, which is fancier than Formica and half the price of Corian. I had my designing friend Sharon over to help me out, since I knew the "look" and colors I liked but had no idea how to actually implement them. She said the look I want is cottagey-French country---"Provence" to be exact, and she even knows how to pronounce it. A blue/white/yellow look with touches of red. Or, as Sharon says, splashes of red.

We picked out the sink, faucets, fridge, and dishwasher on Monday evening.

Now I need to finish taking the old wallpaper borders down, take the old nails out of the walls, wash the grease off the ceiling, buy the paint, and decide about a regular vs. ceramic-top stove.

Our marriage is surviving. I think I am learning to talk, and Paul is learning to not talk.

Quote of the Day:
Me: (on the phone) I'm in bed with a hideous migraine today.
Emily: I wonder if you have food allergies. Maybe you should get tested too.
Me: Well, it's all hormonal. Twice a month.
Emily: Maybe you should take soy.
Me: My goodness, you're becoming quite the medical expert.
Emily: (chuckle)