We were never too enamored with the cabinets that came with our house kit. They are perfectly functional. Oak and plywood, nice hinges, cheap drawer slides, thin doors, but what can you do? They serve the purpose. But they never looked right amongst the stainless and slate. They needed some zip.
Well zippity-doo-da , gimmie a hey and a hoo-ha! After many meetings, confabs, bull-sessions, tete-a-tetes, tea parties and fireside chats we decided on a color. I must admit, the idea came from sister Carrie (not Sister Carrie, my 4th grade French teacher, but my sister-in-law Carrie, of the Brooklyn Carries) who suggested a terra-cotta. Until that point, we were leaning towards green, and sister Bridget (not Saint Bridget, the patron saint of Sweden, although she is ethereal) was lobbying for black--I think she was sniffing turpentine. Anyway, cooler heads prevailed, and we chose a deep red that looks great against the slate counter and adds a sense of depth to the kitchen. A few knobs and pulls later and we were in business.
So we now have this great little house. We are very happy with how it came together: the layout, window placements, functionality. The tile looks great, the kitchen is primo, the floors shine like a waxed turtle (???). Then, we filled it with all of the tag sale cast-off third hand furniture we have acquired over the years. The pull-out couch with the tattered arms. The papasan chair that no one can sit in without going ass over teakettle. The loveseat we received from my sister on moving day (which is actually the nicest thing in here). The knocked-together shop class bookshelves next to the undersized coffee table beside the rickety student desk. We are bringing a whole new meaning to shabby chic.
We do have a few cool things. The old oak dining table is a perfect fit. The wild blue dresser somehow works. Our bed is comfortable. But I do not know what we would do without the modern-day savior of cash-strapped design-on-a-dimers everywhere, the slipcover.
Two tannish slipcovers, one for the couch, one for the loveseat. Just like that, we were back in the game. A couple of colorful pillows, a boldly patterned blanket and a few strong cocktails later, our rooms aren't looking too bad. A good save until we marshall the resources for some new furniture. Of course, the best thing we did was to jettison the papasan. Goodbye, dorm room--hello, showroom!
Ok, it wasn't exactly a pound, it was the Monadnock Humane Society animal shelter. But it was furry, and I'll be damned if I wan't going to somehow make this title work. Anyway, this all points to one thing--actually, two things: cats on the hillside.
We finally got settled enough to go find a couple of cats to make our home even homier. After a few hours of looking, we chose two 1 year old boys, named Finbar and Frodo. How cool is that? We didn't even have to rename them! (truthfully, Finbar was known only as Finn, but we decided to make him a bit more formal and celtic-warrior sounding).
They are hilarious, get along very well, and pretty much beat the stuffing out of each other every waking hour when they are not perched on laps. They are exactly what we were looking for.
