I’ll spare you all the “sorry I’ve not blogged in a while…” stuff and skip straight to the explanation of why I’ve been occupied with other things. As some of you have seen on Flickr, we’ve been in the process of working on our kitchen. It’s something that we (and by that, I mean 90% Angela) have been wanting to do for the past few years now. However, going without a kitchen and working desperately to get it back over the past few weeks has essentially sucked the life out of me. I mean, left me competely devoid of emotions other than rage and self-pity.
In short: kitchen renovations really suck, especially when you are trying to do a lot of it yourself.
I’m extremely happy with how everything has come together. We still need to paint, but of course, we need to paint over half the rooms in the house. However, the new counters, floors, and appliances look great and Angela seems very pleased with them.
This is good, because I have begged her to not speak of or even hint at moving for at least the rest of the year. Were the room larger, I would sleep in our “new” kitchen. After getting cut, burned, and shocked1 all in the process of working on it, I feel a certain sense of ownership that doesn’t come from just paying people to do things for you (although we did pay an electrician and a plumber to do some of the work way out of my league). It’s not so much as pride in my work (as it’s not the greatest, by far) but more like the pride of fatherhood.
Yes, that will seem like a stupid statement in about five more months but for right now, I dare anyone to come between my new kitchen and me; let alone threaten to harm it. I’ll bite you.
- I stabbed my left thumb attaching a romex lock on the new garbage disposal, I burned my left middle finger with a Roto-zip blade, and I got shocked when I pushed a fish tape into a wire. All my fault and none were particularly life threatening. I did curse a fair amount, though. [↩]