The day we arrived at The Brambles, fourteen months ago, I pronounced that our kitchen had been designed and assembled by drunken monkeys.
It was illuminated by two single-bulb light fixtures set with woefully underpowered fluorescent bulbs (Sparks fixed that almost first thing–he can’t stand a dim kitchen). The laminate floors buckle and warp if a single drop of water falls on them. The cabinets have been re-configured so the sink faces a wall instead of the window, where it used to be … you can tell by the scars on the ceiling. There are gaps between the new cabinets. Their hinges constantly fail, sending doors hanging at wonky angles. The ancient dishwasher wasn’t mounted–and opens flush with the island–and is right beneath the big dish cabinet, so you can’t reach the cabinet to put things away while it’s open. There was a hood over the stove, but it had no filter in it and didn’t vent to the outside, so it was literally useless. It was not combined with a microwave, so the microwave had to sit on the counter, taking up a ton of precious space. The island doesn’t go all the way to the wall, and WHY NOT I’d like to know because nobody ever walks around it in that direction.
And the countertop. Granite tile. I can just hear the previous owner telling his wife: “You want granite counters? I GOT YOUR GRANITE COUNTERS RIGHT HERE!”
I know. I’m snotty and ungrateful. It’s a perfectly okay kitchen, in the grand scheme of things … but remember that our kitchen at Low House was designed by us, exactly the way we wanted it. The whiplash was hard to take.
Sparks’ father installed a new dishwasher–it’s in the same place, but at least this one is quiet and at least the dishes come out cleaner than they went in–and a micro-hood, complete with vent to the outside, so maybe the greasy-dust issues will be ameliorated in future.
The ceilings will probably always be 7.5′ tall, though, and this is the only dining area in the house. No formal dining room (which is fine; I don’t care for them). The yellow paint isn’t my choice, but after repainting literally every other room in the house last summer, I just couldn’t. Not with all those cabinets to work around. So yellow it is, for now … until some day in the future when we rip this monstrosity of a kitchen out and turn it into something sensible. Until then, I guess it looks nice with the winter squash.
And my kitchen towel drawer is a thing of joy and beauty for ever. Amen.