No the taps aren’t leaking; no the drain isn’t blocked and backing up; no the cooker is not on fire. It is something w-a-y more serious than that.
My beloved is an amazing cook. He loves it, it is one of his methods of relaxing from his intensely cerebral job. He is happy to cook almost every night. Which is perfect, as I am very happy to let him. As is anyone who has eaten his food.
It’s not that I don’t like cooking, I kind of do, when I feel like it. Which isn’t very often. I have cooked too many meals for too many fussy children for too many years, and I am so over it.
Which brings me to our kitchen emergency. Actually a pair of emergencies really. Two blue-painted sharp cornered emergencies.
Sitting over the top of the largest chunk of kitchen bench/preparation space in the kitchen is a double-sided cabinet.
We put our wine glasses in them, which is a good thing. The bad thing about them is their corners, which are exactly at head height. And every evening, while the beloved is preparing our dinner he whacks his head on them. At least once. For a highly intelligent man, he can be a very slow learner.
Each time he said some loud rude words that I ignored. Sometimes you have to pretend spousal deafness. Men tend to be experiential learners, I find, and I presumed eventually he would receive enough negative reinforcement to learn to work around the cabinets, and not hit his head on them. Ah, no.
I was prepared to let it slide, but it reached a crisis point when he started saying he couldn’t cook in the kitchen with those cabinets there. Ack! I was about to lose my chef! Crisis!! Disaster!!! I would have to do some cooking, which was way more worrying than his bruised head.
So those cupboards had to go.
My beloved was all for throwing them out, with great force, but in our size-challenged kitchen I was loathe to lose even an inch of cabinet space. He was threatening to do this job himself, which if you knew his DIY abilities would make you laugh like a drain, but at that point I thought I had really better intervene.
Luckily I noticed that they would fit perfectly in the gap next to the other upper cabinets. So, I took them down, and removed the doors from one side, then re-hung them. They went from this:
My beloved says this is clearly where they were always meant to be. Not only have I ensured my food supply continues, and saved my beloved’s head; I have improved the look of the kitchen as well.
It looks so much more light and spacious without those cabinets. Which actually isn’t hard in this kitchen.
Plus, as an extra added bonus, I found a use for my over 6 foot tall, hormonally-stroppy, 13 year old son. Holding up kitchen cabinets while I hang them. He is so tall he didn’t even need a ladder. Perfect.
I do love a win-win solution, don’t you?
Only one small problem, though, now I have to figure out what to do with this:
It’s the hole where the cabinets I moved used to be attached to the other cupboards. It is now exposed and ugly.
I am thinking of something that would involve of the use of my new multi-max saw, and another cabinet door, myself. Which would turn what was dead corner space in this cabinet into functioning accessible space.
Better and better. I’ll have to find the box the multi-max is in first though.
Sigh. Denial over. Back to the boxes.