Kitchens, etc.

Expanding on the truism that the kitchen is the heart of the house, I have to admit that this is something I hate. On the first floor of my house I have a beautiful dining room where two Picassos (and a portrait my son made when 3) make funny faces at you, a family room where you can get toasty by the fireplace enveloped by the plumpness of the sofa's down-filled cushions, a media room with a semi-circular sectional so huge several people could lounge/sleep/live on and a sunny living room that's elegant, comfortable and inviting. There's also my cozy (read "really small") eggplant-colored office, and the original contractor's kitchen.

The kitchen - not the one pictured above, obviously - was the only thing my husband and I both agreed that it needed to be gutted when we bought the house; it has no redeeming features apart for the sun pouring through the boring over-the-sink window and undersized French doors. I have been working on the remodeling plans for 3 years now, never finding the "right time" to have Bob, my wonderful contractor, start the gutting job. We had it repainted, however, added recessed lights and a decent chandelier and replaced all the appliances. Until we rip the cabinetry and laminate countertops out, however, and have the floors refinished to a decent color, it is still going to be the only space in my home on the ugly side. And the place where everybody, at every party or get-together, is going to congregate. I tried putting the food platters everywhere BUT in the kitchen - people will fill their plates and set them on the island around which they now crowd, the drinks on three different consoles as far away from the "heart of the home" as possible - yet they'll soon start their natural migration in order to reappear on this same petty island fighting for space with, by now, the plates, silverware, wine and water glasses, napkins, unwrapped hostess gifts and a huge pot of coffee.

This past holiday season, with my family visiting from Switzerland (have ALL pictures been taken in the kitchen ?!?!), must have been the breaking point because I finally set the date for work to begin. And hopefully, by the time we come back from our European vacation this Summer, work will also be finished. Of course, I will obsess over every little detail before we leave and never relax while away, afraid Bob might have misunderstood a drawing, or the mason gotten the length of the half-wall wrong, or the floor people will mismatch the stain color, the marble island will crack (if not crack, then the double-bullnose edge will be a single one instead when delivered). Letting go of control is not something I'm good at. On the flip side, I'm an eternal optimist convinced that, in the end, the natural order of the Universe will bring a little bit of harmony into each of my projects, too - and that's no laughing matter.