Behold An almost Kitchen

I think I bought this house because the kitchen was a challenge.

For starters it looked like an afterthought. The person who surely roughed out the house plan on a paper napkin must have exclaimed, "Holy cow, I forgot the kitchen," and doodled in a little jog.

A brief trip down the narrow hall from the entry, a sharp turn left and in the blink of an eye is the kitchen, sharing space with stairs leading up, stairs leading down and sliders leading out.

It's something realtors would be hard-pressed to describe as a "gourmet kitchen," and when you think of it that has no meaning anyway.

There are no lower cupboards to speak of aside from the one directly under the sink and we know that means pipes and there's a narrow space meant for cookie sheets and other skinny things. In all fairness, they did remember to add upper cupboards.

What made it work is a purchase made after a hasty trip to Ikea, three towns over,bringing home something I lovingly call The Autopsy Cart. This cart has an excellent work surface and below it holds staples like flour, sugar, baskets of necessities like garbage bags and meat thermometer, that kind of stuff.

My daughter loyally offered to paint the room recently so it is no longer has that dark rust shade that made me want to cry.

Once I cracked the efficiency code, I was able to prepare and serve a fussy meal for a dozen, although I prefer a few less.

Here is the working corner with the cart in the lower right corner.


And here are the formerly pink vertical blinds that I painted.


On to the next project.