Okay, we’re at the three-week point in this kitchen, powder room and laundry room renovation (you’ll find my oh-so-insightful comments on Day 11 here). The back half of my house now has all sorts of things that it didn’t have when I moved in—such as insulation, and wiring that won’t burst into flames while we sleep. It also now has—and I’m very excited about this—drywall. Here’s what I’ve learned this week:
*Tortillas rule. Is there anything better than dumping whatever’s in the fridge onto a tortilla, smothering it with cheese and then microwaving it until it’s the temperature of molten lava? Okay, there probably is, but my kitchen won’t be finished for another eight weeks, so most of our dinners consist of molten lava tortillas (or, as I like to call them, “Be grateful you have food”).
*Barbecues are evil. I had a three pound slab of steelhead trout in the freezer, and I was getting a little tired of tortillas. So I decided to try barbecuing. For the first time. Within minutes, I’d cremated a piece of fish that was the size of my liver and was worth more than my car. I scraped as much as I could off the grill, dumped it into a tortilla and smothered it with molten lava cheese. I should have just set my wallet on fire.
*You never know when karate will come in handy. This week, the construction crew installed a support beam to stop my bedroom from falling into the kitchen. It’s working beautifully—the upstairs floor is no longer shaped like a hammock. Unfortunately, this alteration has angered the house. As soon as the support beam went into place, the kitchen door jammed shut and spit out its doorknob. Now, whenever we need to open the kitchen door, I have to head out the front door, run half-way around the house, and Jackie Chan the stuck door open with a rather energetic thrust kick.
*Cats are still jerks. How are my cats handling the reno, you ask? Well, they’ve stopped stress farting (that was week 1), and I’m no longer living in Puke-a-Palooza (that was week 2). Now, they’ve decided to embrace the reno. Every day, they spend hours dancing through piles of drywall dust, then they race through the rest of the house, rubbing against every surface that they can find. They’ve become the Anti-Swiffers.
What’s next? Well, the construction crew is busy mudding and taping this week, and that means sanding is next. I bet my cats can’t wait.