Little home on the suburban prairie -- otherwise known as getting the kitchen remodeled

 You can just call me Laura Ingalls Wilder. Each evening we're here in the heezie, I venture into our gutted former kitchen:

No kitchen left standing!

The only thing left standing in there is a slop sink. I fill up two glass jugs of water and the Brita water pitcher:

Hauling around jugs of water

I haul these back to our makeshift "kitchen" in the living room. I told Tom the other day that our "kitchen" reminds me of the kitchen in an off-off broadway theater production. There's a shelf full of canned goods, a folding table with a microwave and a toaster, and a dinette set from 1978 that is the full-on epitome of a dinette set from 1978. It's great, frankly. Very well made.

The other daily event is the washing of the dishes. We have a tub of water in our "kitchen":

Prairie "Sink" in the "Kitchen"

Throughout the day, we toss our dishes into the tub and then, after the contractors leave, we lug the whole combobulation over to the slop sink. We wash all the dishes, carry them back out of the workzone and put them away on the shelves. Then we refill the tub with fresh soapy water in anticipation of the day to come.

It is essential that we take care of all this prairie business in the evening because the contractors start at the butt-crack of dawn, ie way before I have any intention of rising and shining. I might be living in prairie circumstances but I'm no pioneer. Sleeping till as late in the morning as possible is a seriously underrated pursuit. One which I excel at.

Only 4 more weeks!