Growing up, I lived in a cookie cutter cul de sac. Even though the neighbors' house to the left and right of me were different, I knew exactly where the kitchen was in every third module on the street. So to rebel, as we do even in adulthood, my first house is a fixer upper.
The excitement of endless renovation possibilities died when our money and physical energy ran out. Renovation weeks turned into months. Months turned into years. Six years to be exact.
The hardest things about giving your home a facelift are the disagreements. Not that the husband and I had any idea what we were doing, but somehow each of us were convinced our way was the correct plan of action. Like when I came home to the photo below, after working an extra weekend shift. That's where my kitchen sink was. We had no kitchen sink for a year after that.
Even though I never want to go through that again, these are champagne problems. We ended up with a beautiful kitchen. A million hours of Googling later, we even have a beautiful living room and master bedroom too.
I share the "woes" so you can feel the hard work that was put behind these pretty photo transformations, which is easy to forget with a twenty second click through gallery.
I used to get annoyed when I was asked "Aren't you happy NOW? Look at how great it is NOW." I am really happy. But I wont forget the blood, sweat, and tears - I’m being very literal here - my husband and I put into this place.
The best way I plan to pay homage is to make as many tasty meals as I can in my beautiful, new kitchen.