The kitchen dudes duly sent pictures of the kitchen layout to me. I made some changes, as you do, and checked door thicknesses, shelf heights, etc. The persistent practice of kitchen designers in putting microwave ovens at or above shoulder height absolutely defeats me. A friend of mine is still scarring from a nasty burn from just such a set up (which, by the way, is the one thing she and her partner hate about their otherwise gorgeous kitchen). So, the microwave is back on the bench, there are some more drawers where there were ordinary cupboards, and some shelving I was only half convinced about in the first place has been ditched. I have bought some ducting for the range hood. I have bought all 27 (!) door handles, as I didn't like the kitchen dudes' base line or their range. A friend has even lined up a good tiler for me to do the splashback, which was removed on the weekend.
Also on the weekend, the kitchen threw up all over the rest of the house. There is. So. Much. Shit. Canisters and the microwave cover the dining table. The spare room is bulging with stuff I'd forgotten I had. The lounge has boxes of cans and spices, and now has a distinct "Asian grocery" aroma. The bathroom is full of cleaning stuff and kitchen sink stuff.
I haven't emptied the existing drawers of cutlery and wrappings and tea towels; I'll just pull the whole lot out at 7:30am tomorrow morning when these kitchen dudes, who obviously have no idea of the hours of civilised society, arrive to haul the Current Hell Hole out.
The next day, the Shiny New Heaven is to be installed. CanNOT wait. Have girded loins, sacrificed kitchen sponges to the kitchen spirit (I think her name is Sherry) and have organised remote access to work computers.
And now, we shall see how much of these Great Plans pass through the bowels of Life and Reality and turn to Large, Steaming Turds. And how quickly.
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