Hitting things with hammers is entertaining. I got my first tool box when I was three and used it to help the father put in a new kitchen subfloor. There are pictures to prove it. At least I am kneeling there on subfloor holding my hammer. That same hammer was confiscated by airport security when I flew out of NYC the year after 9/11. That is another story altogether, but one that is a good reminder that when packing up a life to fly halfway across the world yet again and it happens to be the year after a major terrorist attack (actually, September 13th the year after…a Friday), it is a good idea NOT to put the tool box you have had in your life since the age of three into your carry on.
In any case, there are two manufactured homes on the farm. One was replaced early on in our history here after a not so stealth skunk invasion. Apparently getting eau de skunk out of insulation and floor boards and everything would have cost almost as much as building a new place. The second place is up on the hill. It was newer when we bought the farm (another long story), but due to some interesting choices by the folks who lived here before we moved in, not as well maintained as a person would like. For example, every drawer in the house is broken, screwed shut, or otherwise only partially useable. In total, there are five drawers in the whole house which are partially ok. Two in the kitchen, and three divided up in the two bathrooms.
The long term plan was to tear out the house on the hill and put in a stick house. But, as life has a way of being life, with mom dying and my being unemployed so I can help out at home despite the fact that being unemployed makes me darn grumpy, we decided to do some patchwork remodeling instead of rebuilding at the moment. Hence, the need to pull the kitchen island. Now, looking for a replacement with drawers was interesting enough. There are tons online with various looks and styles and prices. Most islands which had drawers and have decent reviews cost upwards of 1000.00 buckaroonies. Given the whole need to pay for mom’s medicine and the extra tight budget we are on as savings dwindle, the least spent the better.
So, part way through my searching for hours and not finding anything that was really the right thing. I got to thinking about my husband’s tool box. He’s a mechanic and has a tool box which would put a person through college. Needless to say, his brand of box was out. But the idea of all of those drawers and a nice wood work surface got me searching for other options. In the end, I ordered a 72 inch stainless steel Trinity box from Costco. It was on sale for the same price as the 56 inch option. It has eight drawers and a cupboard in the middle. It arrives tomorrow.
Given the whole issue of only having two semi-working drawers in the kitchen, you can imagine the anticipation I feel at eight actual working drawers arriving. My silverware, cooking utensils, and knives can each have their own little homes! Not to mention that I will have a reasonable place in which to put kitchen towels. (Those are currently hiding behind the husband’s remote control helicopter parts. Now, why his remote control helicopter parts live in a kitchen cupboard at the moment is beyond me, but I have been away for two years teaching in China, so there are some organizational choices I just cannot explain!)
In any case, tonight we removed the kitchen island from the middle of the kitchen floor. It was held in place by four extremely long screws. While I was hoping for more hitting things with hammers, we are going to use the cabinet as a work station on the deck for the time being. I plan on donating it to Habitat for Humanity ReStore if it still has life left after construction.
I am grateful that my parents got me my first real tools when I was three, and that they encouraged me to use them. I am not so grateful that, through my own foolish baggage packing problems, I no longer have the best hammer in the world. I’ve tried to find a duplicate, but the hammers I have now are really just hammers, not friends.
So, here’s my guide to packing a suitcase after 9/11, avoid packing all things you really care about. Like so many things which matter in life, everything can be taken away way too quickly. Which leads me to being grateful that mom is still here to drive me crazy for a few more months.