This morning I told the contractor I loved him.
And I meant it.
Jim had just told me that he had put “painting the walls” into the bid the insurance company had approved.
That prompted my declaration of love, which seemed to surprise him.
He was here at ten o’clock this morning, along with Darrel-from-the-flooring-store. And Lisa-from-the-kitchen-cabinet store.
They were very busy measuring.
Lisa and Jim kept giving my kitchen the “how can anyone live like this” side looks. I wanted to say, “It’s not that bad.” But when looked upon by strangers who specialize in creating beautiful kitchens, I guess my inexpensive 30-year old kitchen does look pretty awful.
Lisa immediately asked if I was going to have the light over the sink centered. Yes, I would love that. Can I get that done? Really?
Darrel, who never smiles but seems like a nice guy, was very pleased with the vinyl plank flooring we picked out. He approved of Banjo Man’s choice, though I am still ambivalent. I’m sure I will love it when it is gleaming beautifully under my feet, but right now I think I’m floored out.
Yes, floored out. I made that up, but I think it’s a thing.
I never, never, never want to look at another flooring sample.
I got the bid from Stone Depot for my quartz counter. I doubt I will spend that much money on a counter, but I will confess it is tempting.
Banjo Man has an upset stomach and has gone downstairs for tea and crackers. He doesn’t know if it’s the stress from this remodel or last night’s leftover chili, but he is definitely suffering.
I told him to stay in his office for the rest of the day and to try not to think about what was going to happen upstairs in two weeks. We’ll get through it by moving down to the guest suite in the basement and it will all be good.
I need to go sew something now. And then pack a few more boxes. It’s all starting to get real.