Counterculture

It’s been two months since our centennial party, and we’ve hardly touched the kitchen. We’ve suffered a severe case of DIY burnout after working this project for a year. But, something finally happened to get us off our lazy butts and back to work: I wrote  a large check to our countertop contractor. Now, we must get busy—or no countertops for us!

Ironically, we must take a giant step back to move ahead. The kitchen sink and our classy, black-painted plywood temporary counters (which, I swear, people have mistaken for slate) must be removed for the installer to take measurements.

“How the heck are you going to get that sink out of there? Because I will not help you lift it!” I badgered Eric. “I’ll take care of it,” he assured me, in a manly tone. “You’d better not chip it!” I harped.” And you’d better not even TRY to do it alone!!” I’m sure he had no intention of doing it alone. I’m sure he remembers his hernia surgery eight months ago … you would remember hernia surgery, wouldn’t you?

In the end, a friend’s husband helped with the heavy lifting. I meant to get a photo of the action, but I was distracted as the guys wrenched my beloved sink from her moorings and carry her back to the breakfast room, where she will chill on sawhorses until the quartz counters are installed next week. We are back to living like this:

And like this:

Even my bff dishwasher has been disconnected. Yes, that means another week in a dry kitchen … but we know this drill, and this time there’ll be an awesome reward at the end. I can’t wait to show you!  (I can’t wait to show me, first.)

Maybe I can’t lift a cast-iron sink, but I can hoist a paintbrush. The breakfast nook walls and bead board are finished. (Although not the window frames. Yes, I successfully put off the really picky work because we want to remove the stops and clean the sash cords and counterweights at a later, warmer date. Let’s not talk about the bathroom window frames, which I haven’t painted for the same reason. Three years later, we’re still waiting for the right day to tackle the century-old window mechanisms.)

While I was painting, two black-coated inspectors stopped by and cited me for not posting “wet paint” signs. Their coats offer proof that I have, indeed, been painting. Now, on to the kitchen ceiling. I must complete the painting before our new flooring goes in. Don’t want any paint splatting on my new floor!

Due to a scheduling glitch, our countertop installer arrived a day late. I was expecting high-tech laser measurements, but instead, he created templates by cutting and gluing mahogany veneer strips (something that felt familiar to me, with my ancient history of sewing my own clothes). Here, the strips are laid out on a run of cabinets, outlining our future counters.

Then the strips are hot-glued together.

Finally, out the door they go, to magically return as quartz countertops in one week. It’s been a long haul, and I can hardly believe we’re about to get REAL countertops! Is this really happening?? (And furthermore, what could possibly go wrong??) Stay tuned!

What’s that, dear? We should go out to dinner? All week? I thought you’d never ask!