So, how is it going having no kitchen you ask? Well, you didn’t really ask, but I need to let it out somewhere.
In a few short hours on Tuesday, our kitchen went from this:
To be frank, not having a kitchen isn’t quite as much fun as I thought it would be. I have very
fond childhood memories of getting a new kitchen sometime in the early 90s; it seemed like a fabulous adventure at the time. Living in the sitting room, toaster beside the couch, breakfast at the dining room table and Chinese take-aways for dinner.
Now I’m wondering why our experience this week is not so much an adventure – it’s more an abandoned-on-a-desert-island type feeling. Maybe it’s because my parents weren’t also knocking down walls and replacing windows and our dining room sojourn was only for a day or two. Or maybe it was a dreadful time for my parents and they were very good at hiding it.
Or perhaps it’s because I shouldn’t have scheduled exams to coincide with building work – turns out studying and drilling don’t mix.
Or maybe it’s because washing dishes in the bathroom sink just doesn’t feel quite right.
But the replacement solution of paper plates is not much better – try giving a toddler his dinner on a plate that flops over to one side when he picks it up to walk around the room. The sweeping brush is getting a lot of overtime. The girls keep sticking their forks through their plates, and complaining that their cereal is spilling out of the paper bowls. But really it’s because they’re trying to eat at a knee level coffee table while sitting on a couch. It was never going to work.
Perhaps it’s because we have no safe, above-toddler-height surface for the kettle so have been doing without tea and coffee all week. Or could it be that we’re fed up hacking bread with a butter-knife, because the bread-knife has been put away somewhere.
Maybe I’m tired of trying to think of dinners that can be prepared using only a microwave, a paper plate and a butter-knife.
Or is it just plain old cabin fever: five people, a microwave and a fridge in a sitting room for two weeks is just too much to bear.
Like most things in life, there are some upsides; grabbing some cheese and a beer when we’re sitting down at night is wonderfully simple. No more walking to the kitchen – just reach over to the fridge. We might make this a permanent thing.
And tonight we’re having a take-away, on real plates that don’t bend and using real cutlery (don’t tell the kids).
And the builders are making progress; there’s definitely light at the end of the tunnel.
Quite a few people have asked to see photos of the end result, so in true before and after fashion, here’s how it looks now (well, not right now – it’s a good bit messier, but you know what I mean)