My kitchen is toast.
A couple weeks ago, Dan noticed water dripping slowly from the light fixture in the downstairs ceiling. Water coming from the ceiling can never be a good thing. But it was worse than we thought. I had visions of the plumber coming, patching up a leak, and going on his merry way. But no, the leak had been going on long enough that it had damaged the sub floor in the kitchen, and the drywall and insulation downstairs.So, it all came out. There is a big hole in our downstairs ceiling, but that is no where near as debilitating as having the entire kitchen torn apart.
It has been almost two weeks and the only change has been that more of the tile has been ripped up. We had the restoration company come in with their dehumidifiers, fans and plastic and boy was that fun, to have six giant industrial fans blowing through the kitchen for five days.
This silly dog really enjoyed the fans. He would stand in front of them and let the hot air rustle his fur. I'm sure he was day dreaming of running though fields on a hot summer day in pursuit of a herd of sheep.
It's kind of funny though, because we were considering remodeling our kitchen in the next year anyway. Goodness knows it needed some help. The way we get around to things though, it probably never would have really happened. Now we have been shoved head first into a huge project with no way out except to dive in and giterdun.
The bright side of all this is no more cooking or dishes for the next couple weeks at least. It is amazing how much time it frees up in the evenings when dinner consists of a peanut butter sandwich on a paper plate.
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