My mother taught me that the word 'hate' is a very strong word. So when I talk about my old kitchen, it's dislike immensely, but never hate.
But it's been made clear on more than one occasion (like here), that I have been looking forward to our kitchen renovation. Very much, in fact.
So, the old gal is leaving the building in five more sleeps (but who's counting, right?). And there's not much I will miss. Like this:
The lino. I think this was the part I was most happy to say goodbye to. It never looked clean, was textured and held every food and sticky drink morsel. And then once it was clean, it still looked grubby. I even used Jif to clean the floor once (yes, on my hands and knees!), and it looked a teeny tiny bit cleaner. For a few moments anyway.
Peekaboo tiles. The kitchen had a quick makeover before we purchased this home. I say quick, because the original tiles have been giving us a sneak preview in the past few months. Two words: not pretty.
Painted benches. As part of that same Lick n' Promise was the painted benchtops. Charming they were.
The contact. You know that sticky stuff that was really trendy in the 70/80s, and it had assorted patterns on it? Well, it lines every one of my cupboard shelves. And it's uber classy with the paint blobs on it.
The slick 70s style. Need I say more? Actually, yes I do. This house is a Victorian, born in 1904. Not 1974.
Brown appliances. The brown Blanco. Mmm, mmm.
Modern Maid. I'm sorry but is there anything modern about this maid? (See above comment.)
Reliable timer. I can't tell you how many dinners have burnt because this bloody thing never went off. It kind of just stopped. Without telling anyone. Thanks Modern Maid.
Sawdust overkill. Everytime we opened up a cutlery drawer, a little sawdust made it's way into the lower one. Nothing like cleaning the drawer and all its contents. All. The. Time.
The constant need for soap. Because the drawers weren't on runners, they got sticky, then the handles would come off. Handy (pun intended).
The pantry. Well, I did have a pantry, a gorgeous hutch my husband made which was placed in the closest proximity to the kitchen (in the dining room). And so obtaining ingredients for a meal or snack would often mean several trips across the kitchen, around the dining room table and then into the small hutch. Oh, and then I would have to take seven things out to get the item I needed. There's plenty of reasons not to cook right there.
No dishwasher. Sadly, for the whole of my married life (that's more than ten years now), I haven't had a dishwasher. And before then when I did have one, I never used it. My fairy step-daughters often joke with me that we are the only family they know that doesn't have a dishwasher. And since my best friend just purchased one, I think they might just be right.
The lighting. I've spent the last four years cooking with just one little fluoro in the middle of my large 12 foot high kitchen. I've basically cooked in the dark. It's amazing I have ten fingers still. And who knows how many snails I missed when cleaning the garden spinach?
Perhaps I'm being far too harsh on this kitchen. If these walls could speak, it would have plenty to say. The meals, the memories, the stories, the eras. And, yes when I think more about it, I've made lovely homecooked meals in this kitchen, and watched my boys start solids there too. We've had many a family discussion, talked over the most amazing things, eating home grown produce (possibly gritty) with old and new friends, and spending far longer than planned chatting over a hot cuppa. The kitchen truly is the hub of this home.
But imagine how many more memories are going to be made in my new kitchen?
Plenty, I say.
And I can't wait to start them.