Once the new countertop and backsplash was installed, the kitchen still didn’t provide the look the General had in mind when we started the updating process. She was frustrated. I was very frustrated. Things were a little tense. Okay, so things were more than a little tense.
It wasn’t as though I threw in the towel, but I marched off to bed one night in a huff saying, “Do whatever you want to do”. Truth be told, maybe my blood was boiling. I was really aggravated. Pouting is my spiritual gift and I’m pretty adapt to going that direction when things seem at an impasse in reaching the outcome I desire.
I tossed and turned all night and awakened with the resolve to do it her way. I guess you could say I was hollering calf rope. I called the painter whose crew recently painted the exterior of our home and asked for a bid to paint or stain the cabinets. I said nothing to the General. About mid-morning she opened the conversation (that means we were talking again) by saying the kitchen was fine without the need to do anything else. We didn’t need to change the color of the cabinets.
By this point, I’d already acquiesced and moved in the direction of the inevitable. We were changing the color of the cabinets. The General pushed back the other direction and said, “No we’re not!” Can you believe this? We were now each advocating for the other’s previously long held belief.
If I live to be a thousand years old, I’ll never understand the General’s thought processes. She probably feels the same is true for me. In the next several days, we both gravitated to the thought that staining the cabinets made sense. I’d get the advantage of seeing the wood grain and she’d like the variation in color.
The hickory cabinets had a clear coat on them, but they had never been stained. Apparently, the clear coat was not totally sanded where the wood would absorb the stain when the painters started the staining process. In the three days that followed, it became a horror story of sorts.
Instead of having the darker expertly finished appearance I anticipated, the cabinet doors looked like an elementary-age-kid had less than expertly antiqued the cabinets. The one thing I was sure of is that the work was unacceptable.
So what do you do when you come to the realization that there is no way to camouflage a blotched staining job? The cabinet doors that I previously had described as “precious” to the General were in a state of various shades of ugly. Yet, there was no turning back. What once was, would not be again.
Despite the promise from the painting crew that they would get it right, I knew there was no way that would happen. It was no longer possible to stain the cabinets and have any kind of uniform look. The thought made me sick at my stomach, but there is no sense crying over spilt milk.
I began to fantasize having white cabinets. Six months earlier, my resolve that “hell would freeze over” before that happened, now became my utmost hope. Thus began another long process.
Drum roll – The kitchen is now finished and I will admit that I was wrong. The kitchen looks freshly updated and I really like the look. The General is very satisfied to now have what she saw in her mind all along.
The problem we now face is this: “When you dramatically change the appearance of one room, you begin to envision changes elsewhere.” On the other hand, the General did mention yesterday afternoon that the redbud tree in our backyard looks dead from the summer heat. She referred to it as the money tree. Consequently, it will be a day or two before either of us have a bright idea of refreshing anything.
All My Best!
Don