The thing about old homes is someone else has lived in them. We gutted the bathrooms so I wasn't worried about them, but the kitchen on the other hand...It's been lived in for 90 years and the last thing you want when you move your dishes in is any trace of someone else left lingering in the cabinets. So I went to town on those cabinets and gave them the scrub down of the century. Anytime I roll up my sleeves and do a deep clean I slip off my wedding ring. The last thing I want is bleach tarnishing the most important ring I'll ever wear. So I slid it off, put it on the counter and turned Pandora on full blast for 3.5 hours of good hard cleaning.
I was on my final cabinet scrub down and I came eye level to the countertop where my ring was sitting, but the band...the band was gone.
I could feel the heat rise from my feet to my face as I shoved any remaining object on the counter out of the way. Where the heck was my ring? I slowly walked a circle around the kitchen and saw no trace of a shiny diamond studded band. I fell to my hands and knees frantically crawling hoping I may have a better view of it from the floor. I laid on the floor peering under the newly installed gas range and the still stickered refrigerator. NOTHING. As I crawled on my hands and knees I found several cracks that could have easily eaten a ring.
And then I saw the trash bag full of crumpled up paper towels, nasty remnants left behind in the cabinets and a few dead flies, and, get this...cigarette butts from the contractor. CIGARETTE BUTTS. Yes, you guessed it. I pulled every item in that trash out one by one until I had an empty bag in my hand and no ring.
It was nowhere to be seen. I began pacing through the empty house. When did I last see it? What did I do? How am I ever going to deliver this news to my husband?
One hour later I was laying on the floor and suddenly it hit me. I had hastily pulled my purse out of the cabinet and thrown it on the counter. I emptied that purse in 30 seconds. Still no ring. Suddenly I caught a glimpse of something STUCK TO THE BOTTOM OF MY PURSE. THE RING.
Sometimes really really really bad things seem really really bad, end really really well.
Weekend progress pictures. It's always been my dream to have brown and white stairs. Strange dream, huh?
While I was scrubbing I found this vase circa 1853.
The washer and dryer have electricity now.
So does the range, however, it's a quarter of an inch too big. That's unfortunate.
Beverage center has power.
Starting to look like a kitchen.
Wish you could see what I saw on my drive home. The sunset was amazing.
No comments:
Post a Comment