I’ve recently started a new job (at a very prestigious university) and moved into my new house! We’re just renting, but this marks the first time I’ve lived in a house of my very own since I moved out of my parents’. It’s a bit of a mess—poorly designed, terribly decorated (it looks like 1973 crawled inside and died), and clearly has never been fully cleaned. So I’ve been busy cleaning, unpacking, decorating on a budget (VERY budget, since we’re minus several key pieces of furniture and winter wardrobes), acquiring said key pieces of furniture and winter wardrobes, oh, and starting my new job. Whew.
But I am excited to have a REAL kitchen to cook in—real, as opposed to an apartment-sized closet, or a refrigerator and stove stuck onto one wall. I don’t have nearly the counter space I’d like (and the kitchen cabinets were never finished—they’re still bare plywood on the inside), but I’ve gotten all the kitchen stuff unpacked and put away. I’ll finally have room again to hang my pot rack, and I’m in the market for a used stainless steel prep table (like they have in restaurants) to rectify the counter space situation.
(So if anyone knows of a good restaurant-supply shop in Massachusetts, let me know!)
And soon, I hope to be in possession of my grandmother’s mahogany dining room table, which will seat 10 people with all leaves in. I can finally have a dinner party for lots of people, on real chairs, with real china and glassware and music and wine and a fire and free parking for everyone.
You’re all invited.