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It all started...

when we bought the house 14 years ago. The kitchen was among the first things we thought we'd fix - right away. I mean you can see why, right?



Those metal counter top edges (circa 1950 something) might have been shiny and slick 60 years ago but 14 years ago they were grimy, bent, and the perfect place for coffee grounds and grease to reside leaving a jagged brown line between the metal and the Formica.


(Don't worry - we never used the stove. We DID replace that right away.)

The cabinets - and let me tell you, the pictures don't do them justice - have an orange glow to them that complements the "cream colored walls" (read: never gonna be clean again walls). The undersides of the cabinets are painted with flat white paint and have a lip that collects grease and steam like nobody's business.

The floor must have been replaced at some point and perhaps the vinyl was always off white but now it's the perfect shade of no-matter-how-hard-you-scrub-the-embedded-dirt-only-laughs-at-you white.



But, this kitchen has been extremely functional. We built shelves to fit the place that had no counter space. We used every inch of the walls to keep the little counter space we did have free of clutter and we have cooked and baked and canned and celebrated all manner of milestones from that kitchen. Birthdays, holidays, good grades, and new jobs. We've fed friends and strangers. We've cooked for families with new babies and families with someone in the hospital. We learned to can salsa (after we learned how NOT to can salsa) and tomato sauce and pickles (okay, we never really got the hang of pickles).


And now 14 years have passed and we're finally going to fix the kitchen. And stay married. I'm sure of it.