More kitchen talk.

All, thank you for the feedback on the kitchen! After hemming and hawing and dragging my feet, we went to another city to look at homes today...and while we did see some real freak shows, we also saw some good stuff and ended up putting in an offer. I'm excited! And, the kitchen in this place is much bigger (and I must admit I am sacrificing the sex appeal for the space) and is a little bit of a project, purely cosmetically, of course. And, it's on a street with a really adorable name.

So, wish us luck. This house is a short sale, so the bank might take about six years to get back to us.

But get this!

We went to go prepare our offer, and immediately started quoting different offer amounts to each other, then looking at each other like we were crazy ("well hello, high roller," "and hi you, cheapskate") only to find out that the price of the house dropped by $10k today. Today! I printed off the sheet for it last night, and this morning they lowered the price.

I'm thinking this might be the one.

And so my next kitchen question for you is:

See all that honey oak? Is it sacrilegious to paint it? I mean, it is real wood...but if I think it's ugly, can I paint it? It's not exactly upgraded materials at use here, people.

P.S. how could the agent not get into this place to take pictures from the inside? The world may never know.

In your professional female opinion,

is this kitchen too small?

I'm afraid it might be.

To the left is a wall with the fridge and floor to ceiling built-ins. Beyond that door that you can barely see is the laundry room, which has a ton of pantry space.

I should also tell you that the rest of the house is very cute.

Exhilarating.

That is what I'd call today. Today it was sunny and at lunch, I didn't wear my jacket. And when I left the office at the end of the workday, it wasn't dark.

To quote the teacher at church on Sunday, "remember, Spring is coming. Someday."

Just looking out the window at the non-foggy day warmed my bones and lifted my spirits! Let's remember this feeling when it snows this weekend.

In other news, lately when I approach my blog and contemplate posting, I feel like I'm working up the nerve to call a somewhat-serious boyfriend who has just returned from a long vacation to Europe, and I am surging with awkwardness at the first hand-hold since the vacay, and the first suggestion of an evening outing, and feeling all intimidated because he has just been to Europe and learned the ways of the world while I've been here in Utah just mincing about.

Only it's my blog that's just been mincing about. I have been doing stuff.

I promise, I have been doing stuff.

And while we're on the dating vein, I have told a couple people that house hunting is like online dating. You compulsively browse photos and biographical tidbits online and think you've made the right choice, but then you show up at the date and what you were expecting to be a Zac Efron turns out to be more of an Uncle Rico. All the online photos are about ten years old, "athletic" really means "overweight" and "charming" really means "dilapidated." Oh, and "recent remodel" means "honey oak cabinets and emerald green carpet."

No but seriously, have you already broken your new year's resolutions?

I should have known.

So hi, how are you? Already broken your new year’s resolutions? OK.

The first bit of good news this year is that we are buying a house! That’s right. For me that means my house/home/nesting compulsion has been temporarily validated and I am free to peruse home listings and talk about colors and finishes and layouts willy nilly. With wild abandon. Incessantly, really. I grew up on model homes and Trading Spaces, people, and old habits die hard.

*Tangent*

Why did any of us think the things they did on Trading Spaces were OK? I shudder to think…remember the one with thousands of silk flowers stapled to the walls of that bathroom???

*End Tangent*

My entire life, I have had this thing for architecture. I like buildings, and houses especially. I like to study their lines, think about what they’re made of, how old they are and what the people who have inhabited them have been like. I cried when I saw the Provo Tabernacle burning. That’s a post in itself. I’ve always thought it would be the coolest thing ever to buy a historic home and restore it to its original glory (plus modern plumbing and wiring) and live there for a long time. The house would be part of my stewardship and a way of contributing to society. I would be respecting those who came before me by taking care of the home they lovingly built, and also doing a service to my community by preserving a beautiful piece of our past. People could drive by my house and think, “Wow, what a beautiful old place…” and proceed to wonder the same things I always wonder about an old house.

But then we actually decided to buy a place and the thought of doing all those extensive, engrossing projects sounded like about the worst thing in the world to me. With my husband and I both working full time, the last thing I wanted to do was coordinate logistics for major revamping of anything in the house. We wanted someplace that was “done.” Of course we might paint some walls, but that was the extent of what I was willing to do. I limited my searches to things that looked move-in ready.

Now that we’ve started looking…wow, is there such a thing as move-in ready? Actually, we did see one that was move-in ready and (SHOCK) looked exactly like the pictures. And, I might add, has a cute modern kitchen and the most gorgeous hardwood floors. But then we saw one that felt amazing to be in (bright, welcoming, spacious), but upon closer inspection, needed a ton of work. I’m talking re-facing cabinets, reinforcing subfloors, replacing flooring, widening staircases…

Guess which one I’m thinking about constantly?

I should have known this would happen. What business do I have telling myself I won’t want a project? It’s me. I always want a project.

And to answer your question, yes, I would make many changes in the project house that would give it a look similar to the move-in ready house.

But they would be MY changes.

Am I ill?