So it is finally that time.
We have excavated the kitchen out from under layers of dust and debris and it is now fit for
But first, please take a little journey back to this spring when it looked like this:
It wasn't hideous...
Actually, no comment.
I cannot tell blog lies so I will say nothing at all.
But it just didn't give any evidence that we lived here. We hadn't made our mark yet.
And now, all these months later, I think this feels a lot more like our home:
And just for old time's sake, let's take a peek at the journey getting here. (unfortunately no one snapped a picture of me going vampire-bat crazy, but you can imagine.)
And for all that work, and all those hard decisions, and all that $$$, really, it's still a kitchen.
I love it. I think it's beautiful. I think it feels personal.
But still mostly just a kitchen.
It didn't change my life- just the color of a room.
It didn't make me a better person- it just made me a person who knows how to remodel a kitchen.
It didn't make me a happier person.
Okay, well, maybe just a smidge happier.
Because pretty things make me happier.
But just a smidge.
But in the end, our stuff just isn't important.
It might be pretty.
But it will never be important.
And that's the way it should be.