Duct Tape and Superglue

I have to admit it. I'm a packrat. I can't help it. It happens the moment I see it ... the perfect thing that makes my heart rush. For me, the perfect thing is usually shabby chic (okay, more shabby than chic) and it's the potential that prompts my shortness of breath. It's the vision that pops into my mind of what this thing can become, with just a little polish. With just a little love. I can see a future for it that is better than its simple beginnings. And so it goes. And goes.

So its no surprise that I now have a house full of (not so) perfect things. In fact, all of our houses have BEEN not-so-perfect things. (I still believe it was our common love for raggedy-old-and-broken-down-things and our combined belief in the potential to "fix things up" that drew T and I together like magnets. Magnets with duct tape. And superglue.) We live in a constant state of projects "in progress." But it's not as bad as it used to be. (Or maybe my tolerance level has increased.) In our first house, I lived without a kitchen floor for months on end. After tearing up old orange carpet, then digging up the rubber backing under it with a scraper, we were left with cardboard. Dirty, permanently-installed-with-cement cardboard ... that became dirtier as time went by. It was only years later that I came across a photo of that floor and thought, "People must have thought we were insane." Now I know for sure they do. (They've said as much.)

Our current house was built sometime in the 30s. The prior residents took care of it. But there just wasn't much updating going on. Yes--its true, the kitchen had "custom built" cabinets ... the kind built by someone's Dad who had access to truckloads of maple and shellac.


So, the kitchen has been one of our big projects "in progress" ... for the past three years. I say "our" because my part in the project has been the constant nagging to see it to completion. In that vein, you could say I'm the foreman or project manager. (But don't tell T--he thinks he's in charge.) In an effort to approach the task with renewed creativity and commitment, I even asked for the COMPLETION of the kitchen rehab project to be my Christmas present two years ago. I did receive a card--with this gift in writing. I still have it. (I wanted to be sure I had proof if things got ugly-er.)

And we are getting closer. You can see from these photos the "before" and the current stage of "in progress." It is MUCH better now. Gone are the bold black and white tiles that covered the backsplash (and linger on the floor. Not there yet.) Gone is the maple avec shellac. We still have to get cabinet handles & hardware; paint the walls a neutral "putty" shade and put down a floating floor. But it's much better. We're moving towards visual calm. And that's what we need in the house. In our lives. It's the big payoff--when the vision becomes the reality. The evidence of what the thing can become, with just a little polish. With just a little love. Kind of like us.