We blocked the hideous fireplace to keep out the cat – and because there was no place else for that Ikea piece that was providing much needed storage, since the kitchen was pretty much a disaster.
K had to cut a doorway into the wall so we wouldn’t have to go outside and across the porch to get to the kitchen. Friends gave us that beaded curtain.
Do not fail to take note of the horrible faux parquet peel n’ stick vinyl floor tiles. There was more than one layer of this in some parts. And, please notice the white. How could you not notice the white? Blazing, unforgiving White beating down from every wall, every ceiling, every piece of trim. The whole house was whiter than globs of mayonaisse and Cool Whip smeared onto a meeting of the Dick Cheney Fan Club. (yes, there actually is such a thing.)
In November of ’07, the white was carted off to a dumpster –
In June of '08, the kitten finally seemed confident that it would all be all right -
I believe she is sitting on the delivery of kitchen cabinets. Notice that she has her tape measure at the ready. She is truly her daddy's kitten.
Now finally, the house has its dining room back –
It’s almost like you don’t even notice it’s there. It’s practically disappeared. One could starve to death looking for the refrigerator.
Speaking of table, this one seats 8 at its minimum length and up to 12 with both leaves. We haven’t put in both leaves yet. Once we put in one leaf to seat 10. Ten was ok. I imagine 12 would be cozy but it would be doable. That’s what I love about this room, just the idea of dinner parties for 10 or 12.
The spare quality strikes me as a bit Scandinavian. It makes me think of a Swedish farmhouse (as if I knew what such a thing looked like). Maybe it’s the ladderback wooden chairs against the massive table. Maybe it’s the weathered old Adirondack.
If you can ignore the Warhol magnets, to me, it looks like a room where people with callused hands give thanks to a harsh Protestant god before enjoying a simple meal of root vegetables and freshly made bread.
Well, that’s not going to happen here.
Instead, I will lift my tiny manicured hand and drink a toast to Hestia, Goddess of Hearth and Home and of course, to Dionysus, God of Wine and Theatre.