Thighs sore. Shoulders sore. That spot in the small of my back, sore too.

But the kitchen is finally floored and trimmed and painted. We even got the door knobs put on.

Gone is the ugly, brown linoleum floor with the mountainous crack in the middle. Gone are the dark, faux wood finish cabinets and the nauseating wallpaper (sorry, George, if you somehow happen to be reading this. Only a bachelor would have done that to a room).

Now the kitchen is a sea of blue… it’s very blue. So I painted some of the cabinet doors green (the green of the dining room wall texture) and that somehow magically ties in the avocado green stove hood and the green in the Formica counter top. It actually worked out well (pics in a few days). And it’s done! That’s the beautiful thing. Not just that my kitchen looks lighter and brighter and the neighbours can no longer see in thanks to my sewing handiwork and some sheer curtains.

I was thinking as I was up late last night, watching 1984 on BBC America and sewing the curtains during the breaks, that I’m really rather a Rennaisance woman. I spent a good 7 hours sanding the cabinet doors and carefully painting them, then hauled the sewing machine down from the attic and set about hemming curtains. This morning I cooked breakfast for six (hashbrowns, omelettes, pancakes, anyone?), did the dishes, put the doors back on and filled the cracks in the pantry window. I have no idea what I’m doing most of the time (this being my first time actually operating a power sander and such) but it seems to be going fairly well. The more I do, the less overwhelmed I feel by what’s left to be done.

I’m sore, but pleased.