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Last week Will made a list of things that MUST BE DONE before Christmas. My parents and brother are coming for Christmas (hi Mom and Dad!) and although I know THEY wouldn't expect things like, say all the lily bulbs planted or the ceiling medallion painted, we work best on a deadline. There was some jockeying with the list (Will, I don't think we REALLY need to get the windowseats built in the bedroom, Yes we do, but we don't need to have a credenza/craft storage center bought and organized int eh dining room Gillian) and there is no way we will get all the things done, especially since we keep adding to it, but it helps to have a goal.
Two of the big items on the list were a hood over the stove (Thanksgiving day had more than one smoke alarm incident due to a lack of ventilation and something on every burner cooking away) and a pantry. Why is a pantry suddenly so important. Well, I'll tell you, but you have to promise not to tell Will I bragged.
I won
I WON!
Oh, sorry, what did I win?
I won the upper cabinet battle.
When we designed this kitchen in our heads, it was totally unlike what we have had before. Usually we are 1920's period kitchen (minus the cool stove but only because Will wont let me have one- inefficient- bah!) type of people. Crystal knobs, pastel cottegey doors, old fashioned taps, the whole nine yards. And I will fully admit that's been a me thing. I LOVE old houses. I LOVE them. I don't care about drafts and creaky floors and glass china cabinets that barely open. I love them. And my poor architect husband hasn't been able to convince me to go modern in our whole lives together. Because we have almost always lived in 1920's houses (except for that 1700's building we lived in in Dublin, but we didn't own that so we couldn't remodel, and it had weird purple cabinets anyway, where are you going to go from there?), my love affair with the old has seemed logical.
When we first looked at this house my thought was to go old, make it look like a bungalow. Then Will started showing me photos of more modern looks, including one from a crazy blue industrial kitchen that I fell madly in love with. Suddenly, out the door went the old fashioned ideas. Including the idea of upper cabinets. Open Shelving! That's what I wanted! (Will, by the way, remains amazed since I normally like to shove things away where I don't have to think about them, because if I think about them, I have to organize them. I keep telling him I'm just maturing in my architectural thoughts, it sounds plausible)
And so began the battle over the upper cabinets. None! I said. At least some! Will argued. No NONE! I battled back. Where will we put our food? Will asked. The island, the basement, who cares, just NO UPPER CABINETS! Logic was with Will. I know that. The poor (very tall) man
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It took a little convincing, but the idea of a big pantry space rather than a few more measly cabinets won him over. Good thing he's such a good sport. He is the architect, after all. Now I better make darn sure he gets the garage he's been wanting. Tit for tat, right?
So all of that is to say that we now have a newly tiled wall (our Thanksgiving project) and an almost all the way up hood. We had to pull out a few more of our newly in place tiles that
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Man, see what happens when I skip writing on a week day? I get all crazy wordy!