Why would anyone put themselves through this nightmare for a fourth time?
There are a variety of reasons why people choose to upgrade their living space. It doesn't function as it should. Perhaps it is caught in a mid-twentieth-century time warp of olive greens and mustard yellows. Maybe everyday conveniences, like a dishwasher, are failing. Our last Toronto-based kitchen renovation began with a leaky faucet and mushroomed into a complete gutting of the space, knocking out exterior and interior walls. More likely, the space just doesn't satisfy the owner's taste profile. I know people who are in constant renovation mode. They are never satisfied. No sooner is the paint dry, than they are on to the next room. It is expensive and exhausting.
In a previous post, I mentioned this kitchen was designed by a very high-end company. A lot of money was wasted on this cuisine, but money can't buy taste or style. I rarely criticize another person's sense of panache, but after living with this kitchen for a decade, I believe I've earned the right. There are a lot of lovely little things, but when taken together as a whole, this kitchen just sucks.
In every renovation project, there comes a point when I start to question the sanity of the project. It is never just a kitchen remodel. It is an intense delving into the deepest recesses of my life's choices.
Should I really be using gas for cooking? That's really bad for the environment and my asthma, don't you know?
If we go with induction technology, we have to dispose of all our current pots and pans, save the cast iron. Did you know that cookware shopping is kind of like car shopping? There is a sucker born with every sale of an inadequate non-stick fry pan. Out, damn PFAS, out.
Am I wedded to the paint colour in the rest of the condo? You know the one. The one I chose with loving care only four years ago. The colour that calms me! The answer is a resounding maybe.
And the biggest question of all...
When we remove the wall unit in the family room, where are we going to store The Husband's scotch collection?
These are just some of the conundrums facing us.
The butler's pantry (or the scullery, as The Husband is calling it, because apparently he has transformed into Lord Bernstein of King West Manor, First of His Name) is almost completed. A stand-alone freezer will occupy some of the space, while the rest will be prep area, small appliance storage, a secondary sink, and, stunning as it might seem, an actual pantry. There will be access to this space via a hidden door from the kitchen. This construction will be ongoing as the guys move on to further gutting next week. I am starting to see the vision, and it is all The Husband's. We are now furiously packing up the kitchen, so that this really messy work can happen while we are out of the country. Who am I kidding? The messy work will still be here when we return in three weeks. If anyone reading this thinks that this is a great opportunity to rob us while we are away, good luck to you. You will be met at the door by angry Russians with power tools. I pity the fool.
The most liberating part of all of this is that, in theory, I have stopped worrying about every little scratch and spill. Last week I baked a challah for Rosh Hashanah and spilled egg wash on the oven door. Did I stress it? Of course I did, because that's who I am, but I only cleaned it off marginally. I've stopped trying to keep up with dusting everything. It is a losing battle. The Husband asked me today if he could throw away a pan he was having trouble scrubbing. I almost said yes. (We will donate any still left after our kids have their picks.) I am less cognizant of making the countertops and sinks shine. Of course, my lovely cleaning person is coming the day before we leave, just in case you thought I'd completely abandoned my Type A. The Husband has been mocking me mercilessly about cleaning the kitchen just as we are gutting it. I'll take that hit. The broken wine fridge isn't bothering me the same way it has for a year. The splatters inside the microwave have fallen away like autumn leaves. I am trying to find the zen in all of this. I won't lie, it's difficult. It's going to take a very long plane ride next week and some very special narcotics to put most of this in my rearview mirror.
In the meantime, we are picking out countertops this week. The new appliances have been ordered and will be delivered...um...sometime. The sink (a full workstation sink for those who have been following along) is being ordered today. The cabinet dudes are coming on Thursday to finalize our finishing choices. We need to make some organizational decisions about drawer inserts, spice placements, and dividers.
It's a process. A very long process. Out with the old and in with the mess.
After Yom Kippur, I will keep you all apprised of our travels. I'm not sure I'll use this space because it isn't phone-friendly, and since we have weight restrictions on our luggage, schlepping my computer may not be in the cards. Keep you posted. Here's a hint. The first leg of the trip is Audrey Hepburn's country of birth.
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| Building the "Scullery" |
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| Butler's Pantry is coming together |
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