We’ve had the benches replaced in our kitchen. The old ones were looking a little tired and didn’t quite fit in with a more modern colour scheme. Bench tops are a first world problem.
It doesn’t sound like a big job yet we ended up having to move a fair bit of stuff. It wasn’t as if we had to move the whole kitchen, just the bottom half but that turned out to be much more than we had thought. We’re relatively tidy people. We’re not hoarders. Everything has its place but it was amazing how much stuff had to come out. The draws were easy, they just slipped out and the contents of the cupboards we put into boxes so that they would stack more easily. Within an hour or two though not only was the kitchen unserviceable but the back half of the living room was out of action as well.
The under the sink collection was a history of presents past. Three kettles, two coffee makers and a food processor. The contents of our cupboards was testimony to the boom and bust nature of our culture. We have so many cupboards because we have so much stuff. We buy it in the goods times because we fancy a change and tighten our belts as economic woes come to the fore.
Do we really need a dozen pans? Do we need all that crockery when there is usually only the two of us that sits down to eat? What possessed us to keep all of those things. Well, you never know. We may just need them one day.
The kitchen is the worst room in which to get work done. Everything happens there. It is like having open heart surgery. You can see the wounds and scars from previous attempts at DIY. Cicatrices in the exposed plaster.
I got someone in this time.
While I sat waiting for the work to be done my thoughts wandered to County Hall and the enormous quantity of stuff that will have accumulated over the last fifty years.
We’ll need to order some skips.