Yesterday, we went to Home Depot to order the kitchen cabinets. It's a much more complicated process than you might imagine. We went there over a month ago with our list of measurements and the cabinets we had chosen. But that's not the procedure.
So, in an abundance of caution, we had the measurer come out. The measurements were sent back to Home Depot, who was then supposed to call us in a week. No call. At the end of the second week, I wrote to the kitchen designer, who was supposed to look at measurements and our plan and put together the cabinet order.
I thought about trying to get the appointment squeezed in before Thanksgiving, but I decided to take more time. We're not going to have a kitchen for Christmas, so it's better to take our time and not make a mistake. So, I made the appointment for yesterday.
We sat with the kitchen designer for almost an hour, and because we had done so much advance work, it didn't take as long as it might have. We knew the cabinet types we wanted, the style, the wood, the color. We decided on a simple crown moulding to go in the 5 inches between the top of the upper cabinets and the ceiling; if my spouse had gone alone to the appointment, he probably wouldn't have ordered crown moulding, but I was there to remind him that we didn't want to try to dust those cabinet tops.
Now the measurer returns to our house, just to make sure our plan will work. And then, the cabinet order is placed.
It's exhausting, this process of putting a house back together after a natural disaster. Yet I know that at some point, I'll look back at this time period of sitting outside as the sun sets, having our dinner fresh off the grill or from the one pot meals we make on the grill's burner, watching the solar-powered, twinkly lights come on in the bushes. Perhaps I won't remember the despair I felt over the fact that our stuff has been in boxes for so long that I don't exactly remember where it is.
We will have a serious cold front come through in a day or two--I have a few heavier skirts and sweaters that I wear in chillier weather; I do know where they are. When I packed them away, I didn't expect to still be in this disorganized state this many months later.
And yet, I'm grateful for the steady progress, even if it's slow. I'm grateful that my energy for this process does return, even when there are days I think I can never keep going. I'm grateful that we have a way to cook, that I'm sleeping in my own bed, that we've kept the disorder isolated.
We've been without our washer and dryer for almost a month now--that's been tough. But I'm happy that the laundry room wall replacement/repair is complete. Now we need to paint the laundry room and move the washer/dryer unit back in. Some days, it seems impossible. But then I remind myself that we're very close to being done with that part of the home repair project.
And I remind myself that it could be much worse, no matter how much despair I feel. Many people are in much worse shape than we are.
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