GranolaBox

I spent a lot of time whining last week. A LOT.

First the construction project has now rendered the house somewhat challenging to live in. It’s disrupted virtually every part of my daily routine. We don’t have a kitchen or a living room.

This is what our original kitchen looks like now.

Eating out here in our little town got old really quick. So we realized we had to do something to fashion a kitchen, so I moved QoMU’s tools in the basement shop and turned it into a kitchen.

So we have a place with lots of outlets to store basic food stuff, but this is what we have to cook on.

Since we’re remodeling the living room as well, we’re also short on places to lounge about. Here’s what our living room looks like.

I guess we’re lucky we’ve still got the fridge working, but it’s a pain in the butt to have the fridge on a different floor than the rest of the makeshift kitchen.

It’s also really freaking cold at night, since the insulation has been stripped from one of the main walls, and there’s not even a ceiling above where the kitchen used to be.

And, about half the outside kitchen wall is missing, with only an old piece of paneling and some drywall to insulate it.

So, somewhere around last Friday I got sick of my own verbal and mental whining. With all the hardships other people around the world are facing, who am I to complain that my house is somewhat torn up? Our country is probably blowing up or otherwise destroying hundreds of homes a day in Iraq, yet I’m gripping about a remodeling project?

I realized that all I need to do is a little positive visualization to knock away my stress level. In a couple months, the Queen of my Universe and I are going to have a gorgeous, state-of-the-art kitchen built by some of the most talented and creative builders in the Finger Lakes.

We’re even have a Miele oven waiting in the garage. For now, all we have to look at is the complimentary pen, but even that’s cool. Hey….you don’t get a pen with a Kenmore.

I think I need to take a lesson in adaptation from my cats. Sure, their life is disrupted too, but they seem to make the most of it. Chaplin can be a boneless cat in any form of bed. Indignant that DOUG took his plaster bucket, Chaplin quickly made do with the materials on hand.

Until DOUG gutted the bay window to build in a window seat, it was Chaplin and Dolly’s favorite place to sleep, or to keep tabs on the neighborhood. This doesn’t seem to bother them much.

I guess I need to learn from the cats.

Filed under: General Observations on December 11th, 2007