Last week I told you Andrew and I painted the kitchen. Just like that. Little to no deliberation. We just did it.
But then I didn’t show you the kitchen. It was pretty rude, I know. But, when I wrote the post the kitchen was in state of pre-Thanksgiving disarray and I just didn’t want you to see that way. As much as I complain about wafting dog fur dust-bunnies, I prefer to show my house in a state of near-divine cleanliness to create the illusion that I am the perfect housekeeper and there are never, ever socks on the living room floor that a certain white HuskyMutt keeps digging out of the laundry basket to carry around as her fake children and there are never, ever, ever dirty dishes in the sink or crumbs on the counter.
So now that Thanksgiving has passed and the kitchen is not piled with pie tins and produce, I’m showing it off.
For reference, the kitchen used to be this color:
On a paint chip, I loved it. It was bright and bold and loud. It was exactly what I wanted to splash on the walls after living in a beige apartment for a year.
On the walls, it was never quite right. It reflected on our stainless steel appliances making everything in the kitchen bright turquoise. It was a bit much.
We figured we’d paint it eventually, in that near-to-distant time frame we call “someday.” But then I got drunk on must-get-the-house-pretty-for-Thanksgivingness and painted it on Sunday. And Monday. And Wednesday.
Now it looks like this, as viewed from our back door:
And the view from the dining room:
It is calmer, prettier, nicer and better. It is light blue-gray and far and away from any color I would have chosen two years ago when we moved into this house. It’s a grown-up color. My kitchen has left it’s 20s and grown the fuck up.
That big red cabinet thing you see is really what started this mess. It just didn’t go with the bright turquoise walls and I, in an OCD panic, could not handle people visiting my house while my furniture mismatched my walls. I knew full well when we bought the thing it wouldn’t look right against the walls but I, mistakenly, assumed it wouldn’t bother me that much.
Now all that’s left is replacing the counters, the back splash, the floor, and the cabinet doors and approximately 8 million other little tiny tasks that I’m sure we’ll get to. Someday.