A new (ad)venture! We’re installing a bluebird nesting box in our backyard. Having spotted a frequent visitor at our feeder (a hungry female) we have reason for hope. Having bought a pole, a raccoon baffle, and a nesting box this morning, we are ready to welcome a crowd. Because I am not eager to deal with live mealworms, I bought a package of dried ones. We already had the nearby shelter, the splashing water, and the birdbath. Here’s the goal:
Oh, dear. I’ve neglected my blog for weeks, and all my pictures have disappeared! But thank goodness I have a place in my new kitchen to start over:
I’m relatively comfortable with tech, but certainly inexpert in wordpress. So, reluctantly, I think I’ll focus on new posts and not worry too much about what I have lost. This is a start.
Although we’re waiting on the Moroccan tile for the backsplash, we haven’t taken delivery of the appliances yet, there is some electrical work to be completed, and a few other details remain, I can almost smell the bread I’ll be baking. The red on the floor is just paper protecting the real deal. The faucet isn’t yet connected to anything. But we’re getting there!
On this side, we’ll store our everyday dishwear and add 2 counter stools which I expect will be the best seats in the house when I’m cooking or Aloisa is playing games online. The sitting area won’t change much, just the color update, a new fan and hopefully more organized storage on the shelves.
I’m hoping we can celebrate the beginning of the Year of the Ox in our new kitchen.
Throughout the remodeling process, I have been decisive. I know what I like, and once I’ve made a decision I don’t look back. Perhaps that streak had to end, and it did. When it came time to choose wall colors I was paralyzed. I’ve collected dozens of color cards. I’ve held them up to my cabinets, my flooring, my counter top sample, the backsplash tile, and my favorite botanical prints. I’ve purchased quart samples (the smallest available) of seven potential choices. I’ve chosen and discarded pinks, yellows, greens, ivory and cream. I’ve solicited opinions from everyone in my household, several friends and relatives, my designer, my contractor, his assistant, his painter, and an appalling number of paint-store employees. Alex, who’s done most of the painting, has patiently put up the samples on selected walls. We’ve looked at these colors in daylight, in the evening, in a corner facing east and in the nook that will eventually contain the new range.
The whole point is to live life and be – to use all the colors in the crayon box.
Samples over the old color – lemon grass on top, bamboo shoot in the middle…
In any moment of decision, the best thing you can do is the right thing, the next best thing is the wrong thing, and the worst thing you can do is nothing.
Theodore Roosevelt
Just as I was ready to tear out my hair, the painter, Bob, referred me to a color genius, Sue, who brought it all together for me in about 15 minutes of asking the right questions and making the right suggestions. So I”m not asking for more opinions. The walls will be “lemon grass” and the back ground of the bookcase wall will be “bamboo shoot”.
What shall I do with all those hours that are no longer needed for this choice?
A lot happened in the kitchen while I was eating my way through NOLA.
home for the rangeseating and storage
Now that I can see things coming together, I’m ready to choose backsplash tiles and wall color. There is a lot left to do, and it will be a few weeks yet, so it’s a good thing I like my contractor, John Schmalzried and his Kolina Construction team.
I didn’t really understand how much would have to be deconstructed to get the space ready for my new kitchen. And how much behind-the-scenes work would be needed. The dumpster decorating the driveway. Making the floor level (in our 100-year old house, it may be the only level surface). Creating a space for a hood, which will definitely be an improvement over the downdraft vent in my old stove. The upgrades to “mechanicals”, aka plumbing and electric. Instead of the old track lighting, we now have “wafers” and I”m already thrilled with the increased light and the decreased clutter.
I’m a lot less thrilled with “cooking” being limited to a microwave and a toaster oven. Worse, using disposable dishes or “washing” dishes in our tiny bathroom sink or even upstairs. I put a few things in the freezer in anticipation, we’ve gone out a lot, and my friends have fed us generously.
I also had lost track of just how much stuff I had accumulated. Forty years ago I wanted a lot of detail. Grooved doors on the cabinets, open on both sides. A second sink. Two ovens. Extra burners, because somehow the stove wasn’t enough. In the years since, I’ve added everything I ever wanted and subtracted almost nothing. And all of it, even things I use once or twice a year, close at hand. This time I’m aiming for less chaos. Everything I need and more, but organized.
The first kitchen was designed for just me, because no one else cooked. Someone called it a “power kitchen.” This one, I think, will better accommodate some (admittedly limited) sharing. BUT it will include one workspace designed to be comfortable for me, at my not-quite-five-foot height.
That’s just one thing being plotted and planned with the help of Taylor Billings at WS. I appreciate having the chance to work with a designer who has helped me see what’s possible beyond my own ideas. I LOVE having a plan. And with John Schmalzried, whose Kolina Construction has kept things moving along while implementing the plan and handling the surprises.
It’s time for a change. And I think I’m ready. This kitchen, which has always been everything I could have asked for, deserves an update.
I’ve spent more time here than anywhere else over the last forty years. I’ve cooked for my family and my friends, for visitors from close to home and around the world. I’ve cooked with and for my friends, my mother, my children, and my grand-daughter. I’ve cooked for family meals, casual get-togethers, fancy dinner parties, and countless fundraisers. I’ve cooked for birthdays, weddings, celebrations and sadnesses.
Before the pandemic halted all my planning, I began to explore new kitchen ideas. We were reaching the limits of patching and repairing, We had replaced the fancy German hinges, we had re-glued the terra cotta-look vinyl tiles. We had, over and over, re-hung the overworked cabinet doors. New lights, new appliances, new colors, each better than the last. Or at least different.
Once one gets started, it’s amazing how quickly a room can be emptied of the ingredients, the utensils, the cookware, the art, all the stuff both cherished and forgotten collected over forty years.
Today, the kitchen is a shell. Over the next several weeks, we’ll make a new kitchen. While that is happening, I want to remember some of the meals that have been prepared here. Some of the food, some of the events, some of the people. If you’re interested, watch this space.
Tomorrow, March 27th, my sister Martha would have turned 65 if she had not died in 2001, suddenly and unexpectedly and too soon. I miss her every day.
Martha did a lot of living before she died. She learned, she loved, she traveled, and she left us with her daughter, Gina, and a lot of memories.
Martha was a big fan of bubbles, and tomorrow we’ll drink one of her favorites, Freixenet Brut in the black bottle. We will remember her bold and adventurous nature and be glad that we knew her. She helped teach Olivia to ride a bike, she helped Johanna get a tattoo before we were ready to do that, and she was here with me to welcome Sam when he was born.
I have absolutely no desire to spend extended time in Florida. But this cold spell has been a little longer than the ideal, and today’s sunshine is especially welcome. I’ve been hibernating for almost a week, but warmer days are sure to come.
The snow on the porch is undisturbedThe temperature is twenty one degreesThe sun is shiningand Claudia is content