….back at the Mess er, Ranch, this was the scene in the kitch tonight.
Those would be my Daddy’s (yes I am old, yes it is still “Daddy,” he earned the title, he gets it forever,) legs sticking out from our as-of-now-still-ugly cabinets, as he unhooks the plumbing to get us ready for new counters tomorrow.
That’s another fun little tid bit about my life here then and now, my family owns an old and very well-respected plumbing company in these parts. Couldn’t be prouder of who I am – the plumber’s daughter is one part of my identity I never struggled with.
And it is always fun to tisk-tisk at your friends as you climb under their sink to unclog the disposal they crammed with celery. (I’m very handy at parties.)
It will be good to get an actual “after” picture to go with the “before” shots coming out of this joint lately.
I just hope to hell the installers don’t make a scene in the circle this time.
Filed under musing
When we finally finished the last of the renovation work on the Tree House (my pet name for our highrise condo,) we swore up, down, and sideways we would never get another place that needed so much updating. Bathrooms, the kitchen, flooring, deck resurfacing…. on and on it went. (Not to mention we change paint colors on a pretty regular basis- The Mr. and our painter had a bromance of epic proportions. )
Ugh.
We are not good at it- we usually spend the timeline of the project trading who wants to mow who with the car…. so far we have both missed decided against going through with it.
So far.
The suck of it all?
It turns out we are attracted to places like that because nothing, no matter how “done” it is, ever actually feels like us until we rip it up a little.
We are so NOT Mr. and Mrs. DIY. You won’t see us trolling Home Depot with one of those uber-carts piling up sheet rock and lumber and power tools together.
We hire it out, prep the space and go into reno-mode.
This involves martinis, take out, and lots of barely talking to each other while spending every moment we possibly can on the patio and NOT inside the war construction zone.
We have almost notoriously bad reno-karma.
So when this morning’s start to the kitchen cabinet refinishing went from zero to insane-crew-member creating a scene in the street and then peeling out of the subdivision, twice, I guess we shouldn’t have been surprised.
But we still were.
If I’m going to live in a freaking soap opera, can we get some shirtless hot dudes up in here?
FFS, anything that involves more than the big box carpet installer dudes seems to mean 3 of The 4 Horsemen will most likely be the workers who show up (Or at least stop by for a material drop to make sure shit is going adequately off the rails?)
COME ON!!
Also – it’s fine to call a pint glass a “stemless martini glass,” right?
Because I need to upsize the drink like we upsized the house that needs work.
Reluctantly Suburban 