So as you know, I am in Vancouver. Away from the Babes for the first time like this. And by this I mean clear across the country, thru three time zones, into the foreign land of Canada.
I have been writing a lot about personal changes lately. Those changes have slowly transferred themselves into changes around the house. The broken fridge was the catalyst for the transformation. We were going to get the same fridge, but the fridge makers don’t make that ugly color anymore. The make a similar ugly color, but not the same one. And guess what; you can buy a whole new fridge for $800 or a bunch of new appliances for a little bit more. We assessed if we were going to have to get a totally new fridge in a totally new color scheme, then we couldn’t have the stove mismatched. Come to think of it, the dishwasher was falling apart and rusting. So we basically got a whole bunch of new appliances with a new TV thrown in there, too. I think the whole color thing is a conspiracy to buy new stuff. And we are the suckers that bought into it hook, line, and sinker. By the way, Best Buy, you are welcome.
Something about investing in shiny, new appliances woke me up from my pregnancy/newborn/sleepless nights stupor. And when I looked around, Friends, it was not pretty. I was living in a shit hole! Thomas’s room looked like a scene from Hoarders with all his books and toys all over the place. Marie’s bed screamed, “Put a skirt on me already!” Our kitchen organization was completely lacking (as in our Gladware had reproduced like rabbits, however, some lids had run away so nothing matched). The closet that I share with Harrington was another scene from Hoarders: I understand that I no longer need maternity clothes in my closet and Harrington had to rid himself of undershirts that could stand on their own and clothes that dated back to circa 1997. The bathroom that kids used still had the original builder’s paint along with very old (too ashamed to tell you just how old) shower curtain.
Basically everything was a disaster.
I wondered how did it get to be this bad. When did it become acceptable to just throw our stuff everywhere? I am thinking sometime between getting pregnant with Marie and sometime after Thomas began sleeping through the night.
So the new appliances along with the Vancouver trip looming put my nesting instinct into overdrive. I organized like I had never organized before. So here’s my Big Reveal:
|This stove gave us a lot of meals, all cooked on uneven cooking surfaces. I feel the coils give it a certain vintage, rustic feel.|
|Oooo! So shiny and beautiful!|
|I never realized how old and bad our stuff was until we went shoping for new stuff. I was not aware that the plate holder-|
thingys were not suppose to be sharp and rusty.
Gorgeous. . . and quiet.
|The salesman told us that they don't make almond anymore. Of course they don't make that "unique shade' anymore.|
|I *heart* this! I forgot that ice cream doesn't have to be all melty!|
|A whole kitchen view. I left all the clutter there on purpose. For dramatic effect. Think of them as props.|
|Cleans up nice, right? I got rid of all those props, you know, for dramatic effect.|
Enough of Show and Tell. So what have you let go that you are working to get back together again?