Gareth would have a ball planning it all. Jack, who’d be the one to do most of the work, would get a kick out of making sure his man got everything he wanted. And the end product would be truly unique and memorable.
What am I talking about?
About two months ago we finally stopped procrastinating and decided to get our ancient, delapidated kitchen redone. I’d never had a new kitchen before, and I love spending a lot of my time there, so designing something new was both exciting and seriously scary. What if I got it wrong? After all, I’d come up with acceptable workarounds for all the shortcomings in my old kitchen – and there were quite a few. Surely I could just carry on as I was?
But no. When my oven decided to work only under extreme persuasion and the tap started to show signs of seizing up, even I had to admit it was time to do something drastic.
So, for the last three weeks I’ve been kitchenless. I’ve been a virtual prisoner in my home as I was babysitting the fitters. And I’ve been offering nightly sacrifices to the weather gods.
For once, we’re having a summer that’s longer than three days, so we could at least eat in the garden. And now that my fantastic guys are almost done, I’m looking forward to reclaiming not just my kitchen, but also the rest of our house, which looks like a dust-covered heap.
Apart from the mess, the new kitchen will be fabulous and – while much smaller than my actual dream kitchen – it will be totally Gareth-worthy. A wonderful promise of Saturday afternoons chopping, stirring, sipping wine and writing, right there in my favourite space, with the smells of garlic, herbs and spices all around and Tohou jazz on the air.
Yep, I’m very much looking forward to that.
There may even be a story or two in it, especially with Jack and Gareth’s birthday’s coming up. For now I’m imagining one of my kitchen fitters is Jack with a tool belt on and a pencil behind his ear… and I can cope with any amounts of dust and even cornflakes for dinner for dinner!