If you have been following along via my last post, or Instagram or Facebook, you know I have moved. And while I don’t WANT to make this blog about home renovations, for now, it will include the trials and tribulations of how having moved has an impact on my kitchen time. My kitchen is my happy place. On most days, I would rather spend time there than anywhere else…even in this “Welcome to the Gates of Hell” weather we have been having. Renovations haven’t changed that, I just had to alter my approach to things. For now, bread making is suspended. Anything I make must be uncomplicated, no new challenges, and it MUST bring me comfort.
Improvise, Adapt, and Overcome
As I type, I have moved everything out of my kitchen for the massive tear out. I am sitting in what will be my breakfast room, completely surrounded by my kitchen stuff. The only cabinet left in the kitchen is the one supporting my sink. The walls in the kitchen are partially torn out and we can see the original walls from 1939. I was sharing this info with Friend Natasha, and she said, “So, what are you doing for eating now?” I have grills, the stove is still hooked up, I have my portable burners, I have running water and an InstantPot, so I am rolling with the punches and following the old military adage – Improvise, Adapt, and Overcome. We are eating anything that can be created with the above appliances, and of course supporting our local restos by dining in and take out.
I’ve Moved this Shit Four Times Already!
By the time this renovation is complete I will have touched every single item in my kitchen at least 6 times (packing it from there to here; unpacking it here; putting it in the cabinets here; moving it out of the cabinets onto temp shelving and then having to move the temp shelving to another room, and so on). It’s really making me wonder, “HOW MUCH stuff does one human need in their kitchen?” Having sold cookware for 17 years, I have quite the collection of kitchen ware. And I am not kidding when I tell you that I have at least a dozen skillets and fry pans, not including my cast iron. Then came my LeCreuset addiction which added even more. We moved, in part, to downsize. In my effort to downsize, however, the one category I am having difficulty reducing is my kitchen gear. If I give something away, what will happen when I need it?! Having moved every fucking item in my kitchen four times in less than three months, I am ready to part with some stuff. But which stuff? Who do I gift it to? And no, none of the LeCreuset is going anywhere!
I Cleaned When I Moved! Isn’t that Enough?
When we moved from the Big House, I scrubbed so it would be nice for the family taking possession. That’s the military wife in me. With each of our PCS moves, the house had to be spick & span before we could check out. When we moved into this house, it was filthy, so I scrubbed again. I am at the point in renovations where I have stopped cleaning. There is a film of plaster dust on everything and while it triggers my minor OCD, I have decided it is futile to clean daily right now.
What the Hell is in My Mouth?!
Every time I turn around, I find pieces of dry wall (sheetrock) lying about. I must clean everything before I cook anything and clean everything after I cook. The dust is literally on every surface of my house, including my cookware and plates because everything is on open shelving for the time being. NO matter how well you “tape off” a room, the dust finds a way to out-maneuver you. Whenever I get grit in my mouth, I wonder, “Is it spices I didn’t grind finely enough? Sand? Sheetrock?” Who the fuck knows at this point?! And frankly right now, I just don’t give a damn.
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