Samhain Thanksgiving Moon
Todd, Luis and Robert dismantled and stripped bare our kitchen. It looks naked, the old secrets of holes cut for pipes, tile stripped off its mastic, the entry points for gas and water laid bare. And smaller. For some reason it looks smaller to me that it did with the cabinets, sink, stove, refrigerator and dishwasher. Odd.
The wood cabinets, custom made of good quality, will go to Kevin and Melanie. Melanie cleans our house and Kevin will chip our slash, help me cut down tricky trees. The new cabinets are in boxes now, in the kitchen itself where Todd wanted them. The only portion of the old kitchen left is the refrigerator, plugged in but sitting in front of a window, awaiting our final cleanout.
Mike Vanhee, the guy who put up our fence about this time last year, will pick up the old fridge, the old dishwasher and our metal bed frame, the one Kate and I slept on for all the years of our marriage. Certain physical objects accrue affection, like the Velveteen Rabbit. They become a real part of our life, not merely chairs or cars or canoe paddles. Not that old bed frame, nor the remnants of the old kitchen. Just things. Going on now to live a recycled life, the thing equivalent of reincarnation. The karmic wheel of recycle, reuse. Moksha comes in the incinerator.
Today Todd and crew will start installing the new cabinets. On Thursday the countertop people come to make a template they will use to create our countertop out of recycled glass. We may have to get Herb back to move the gas for the stove over about 6 inches. It’s in the way of the stove fitting flush against the wall.
Meanwhile Kate and I have the microwave, coffee pot and toaster oven sitting on a towel on top of the coffee table. The silverware is on the table still in its plastic bins. Paper plates and bowls, too. Some fruit. We’re in a state of self-imposed domestic siege. Familiar. Seems like not so long ago that we did the same thing in Andover.
The new Tempurpedic mattress rests on the new Ikea king sized bed frame. We’ve had it for three nights now. The mattress came on Saturday just before we sat down for Thanksgiving dinner. Lots of newness. The mattress. Amazing. It caresses your body, a firm muscular caress that leaves you confident of your position. Still, it’s different from the old Sears mattress with the hyperbolic name. It was, according to the silky label, the Imperial Ultimate.
We’re making this place ours. Solar on the roof, a new kitchen, new bed, bookshelves in the loft, new boiler, generator installed as something old. The process is disruptive, but exciting, too. We’ll head into 2016 in a changed house.
