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Barring the electrical inspection, the plumbing inspection, the installation of drawer pulls, and the replacement of the refrigerator, we have a kitchen. We have a stocked kitchen: I spent most of the weekend finding homes for everything we had packed away long ago. I made dinner last night. We ate from plates. And then--bliss!--the dishes went into the dishwasher, which runs so quietly it's like the faint rumble of traffic in the street. And they emerged not just spotless, but sparkling. Spouse and I sounded like a detergent commercial, ooing and ahhing at the wine glasses.
What you can't see in that photo, perhaps you can see in this one:
I really like the yellow of the kitchen, and the gray-green in the sunroom. That's the lemon tree trying to get into the picture in the (now blessedly debris free) back yard.
In the words of George Peppard, "I love it when a plan comes together."
What you can't see in that photo, perhaps you can see in this one:
I really like the yellow of the kitchen, and the gray-green in the sunroom. That's the lemon tree trying to get into the picture in the (now blessedly debris free) back yard.
In the words of George Peppard, "I love it when a plan comes together."