I've always loved vernacular architecture and part of the wonder of our house is the outrageous vernacular vision of its builder. Form doesn't follow function as much as it follows whimsy. Dramatic Frank Lloyd Wright-ish ideas go a bit wrongishly awry. But they're still dramatic.
The vernacular charm of our kitchen is disappearing. The brick wall is becoming drywall.
January 29, 2015
January 13, 2015
FROM THE DEPARTMENT OF STUPID DEPARTMENT
Plastic-wrapped kitchen. |
So, in the face of all these things you decided to go ahead with a long-planned, but delayed and further delay-able, kitchen remodel - which involved a whole week of demolition, constant noise from power chisels, brick dust and strangers and made your beloved house feel like it wasn't really home at a time when feeling at home would have felt pretty good. Right.
Not only that, but this is only the beginning. There are bleak out-of-whack weeks of work to go.
And how do you view this?
It is among the stupidest decisions I've ever participated in making. And I can't deny my participation. Or my stupidity.
And the payoff? Tonight my wife accused me of not taking care of her enough and said she is spending too much time taking care of me. Our life never has been her and me. We always have taken care of each other.
So fuck the kitchen. Fuck the remodel. Fuck the bricks and fuck the cabinets. Fuck anything and everything that threatens the one real happiness I've known in my life. Ever.
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