In a few short months, we’ll have lived in this house for 10 years. I have cooked countless meals during this time on this baby blue tiled countertop. Friends over the years have stopped by and said things like:
Oh, it’s so cute!
Oh, it looks just like my grandma’s kitchen!
Oh, it has such character!
And it might. And I hate it.
I’ve hated it since we moved in. There’s no secret that we bought this house for the lot, for the views, for the neighborhood, and for the price. It was insane cheap in a big, bold market. And now, 10 years later, it’s worth nearly triple what we bought it for, pre-renovation. And we’re tearing out this kitchen. Finally.
If you have not ever chopped veggies, baked bread, mixed a cocktail, or poured a glass of wine over tile countertops, please consider yourself one of the lucky ones.
If you swoon over tile counters, there is something wrong with you.
Yes, I’m being a bit dramatic. This kitchen has had countless women and men working in it over the 65 years that it’s been here. 65 years. It’s fed families and friends and neighbors and it’s been a damn good kitchen. 65 years is a long, long time….for a tile countertop.
This kitchen. It’s been where I’ve turned after countless bad days, after countless joyful days, and after total confusion, feeling lost, feeling scared, feeling enthusiastic, feeling encouraged, feeling loved.
This kitchen is where I started this blog back in 2015, a massive feat for a once-shy, incredibly introverted woman who simply loved to write and loved to cook.
It’s been a great kitchen.
And I’m more than ready to say good-bye.
As I write this, we’re a week into a renovation that has gone incredibly smoothly, that happened because my husband found a guy who loves to work on homes, and that guy is thankfully: detailed, responsible, incredibly easy to work with, kind and considerate, and does what he says – does it well, and takes pride in his work. He works independently, not with a contractor, which for me, is about as good as it gets.
I designed my new kitchen, every inch of it, and I’m thrilled to be able to see the end product someday soon. I hope it lasts for the next 65 years, for me, and for the countless women and men who come after me.