I described yesterday as “the point of no return”. One morning last week, I referred to a nightmare from which I had awakened in one of my blogs. “They” had come to start the demolition and the outcome in our kitchen was a horror story. I guess I’ve watched too many episodes of HGTV where crazed home owners with sledgehammers were recruited to assist the contractor in tearing out kitchen cabinets and knocking down walls.
By the way, Tom saw the blog and more or less, suggested I could let go of the apprehension. He assured me that his crew is not outfitted with sledgehammers. Reading between the lines, the encouragement carried with it the promise that they always leave a place better than they found it. In retrospect, all I can say is, “Remarkedly so”.
Tom has a good eye. When he came to provide an estimate of replacing the countertops, he suggested we widen the top counter an additional four inches. That would bring us up to “standard”. When we had the house built, a last-minute modification was to have rock put on the front of the cabinet that opened to our living area. Consequently, we forfeited four inches of leg room at the counter top by doing so. At Tom suggestion, we gave it back to ourselves eighteen years later.
I’ve never flown first class, but I likened the upgrade to flying first class instead of coach. The width of the top counter is now only an inch less than the top of the kitchen cabinet. Who would have thought?
Pleasantly surprised is kind of descriptive of the process. The three-man crew doing the work yesterday were even more OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder) than the General. There was never a mess in our kitchen. In addition to removing the existing counter tops, they also removed the tile backslash and they methodically hauled out the old tile as they took it off.
I anticipated it would take a day to get rid of the old and a day to install the new. Instead, they simultaneously did both at almost the same time. At the end of the day, they were finished and the new kitchen counter looks amazing.
Of course, the next critical step is for the plumber to make the kitchen sink operable. Currently, it will take more than a magic trick to turn on a faucet and have water. Currently, we don’t yet have a faucet and nowhere for it to drain if we did. In the interim, the General is limiting me to one coffee cup.
By the way, I really didn’t need the reminder to stick with the same cup. I have enough sense to know… Well, I guess that’s another story. While it may be true that pigs don’t clean up after themselves, I wasn’t going to stack used coffee cups in a sink that has no access to water. There is a sink in the laundry room and it will work fine as a location to rinse out my one allotted coffee cup.
By the way, the handmade pottery cup I chose for coffee was a gift from a friend in the late 1970s. I never drink coffee from it without reflecting on how her friendship and that of her husband enriched my life. Giving myself opportunities to remember folks with gratitude lightens my day. I suspect you have the same experience.
Getting back to the picture of the countertop that Antonio sent to his boss, the message it communicates speaks volumes. Have you ever wondered what it would be like at the end of a work day to have the satisfaction of knowing you made a meaningful difference?
For that matter, have you ever worked in a job where you could showcase your best and see the difference you made? You can paint a room and recognize through the investment of your time and know you made a difference. You can iron a shirt and immediately have satisfaction. When you primarily work with people, it isn’t always apparent that your investment of time amounts to much. I guess you have to be a long-distance runner.
Of course, they figuratively say social workers are a dime a dozen. I’m sure that has some relationship to what they are paid. I still chuckle at the joke that a would-be-robber points a handgun at a social worker and says, “Give me your money or it’s your life.” The would-be-victim replies: “I’m a social worker. I have no money and I have no life.” By the way, if I had it to do over, I wouldn’t change a thing.
I’m fairly confident that Antonio (who thoughtfully took a picture of the new countertop) lives with some sense of satisfaction for the difference he is making for others. His skillset is artisan. It has to be satisfying to know that when he shows up for work, he leaves things better than he found them.
Consequently, today’s blog is a shout-out to Tom Betsill and his crew at Hill Country Granite for the incredible work they do. You might be doing yourself a favor by giving him a call. Our new countertop is from India. I doubt that I’ll gravitate to a steady diet of Indian food, but I sure like the look of the counter.
All My Best!
Don